Code of Honor
by Leafelora
Summary: Three Clans struggle for survival, dangers rising one by one as old rivalries turn cat against cat. HollyClan, the forest Clan. StormClan, the mountain Clan. RavenClan, the marsh Clan. Three cats strive to fulfill their destinies as evil grows within the structured lives of the Clans, as well as outside of their borders. Rated T to be safe, and to give myself more freedom.
1. The Prophecy

**Author's Note: This is a Warriors fanfiction based on a roleplay that I did with three of my friends. I will be using a lot of events that happened in our threads, but the majority of it will be based on the plots we planned out and never completed. Every cat is a character that was either on the site, or someone I know personally. There are even some based on my pet cats. **

**Please forgive me if I wander away from the main plot sometimes, because there is a lot we did just for fun and to get to know our characters. If I bore you with this, I'm sorry. I enjoy getting reviews, and I hope you'll all be honest with me when you write them. Tell me what you love as well as what you hate. Or even who in the story you love and hate. Everything you tell me helps a lot. **

**I have tossed my old schedule and will now simply be posting two to three times a month. **

**While I do have full Clans planned out for the start of the story, there are queens who are going to have kits later on, and I have no names or plans for these kits. So if you're interested in allowing me to use an OC or two of yours, I'll be happy to include them. Just keep in mind that they will more than likely have small roles.**

**Thank you!**

**~Leaf**

* * *

><p><strong>The Prophecy<strong>

_Bird and Sky must break apart, _

_And silence the howling western wind, _

_Of three star felines, pure of heart, _

_One beguiled by dreams, a storm of sin,_

_One with powers unknown within, _

_One ruler to save his kin, _

_One love the stars will spin, _

_On three paws, one cannot stand, _

_Bring a fourth unto the land,_

_Star-followers, hear and I will tell,_

_StarClan has spoken, listen well._


	2. HollyClan: Apprentice Ceremony

**HollyClan: Apprentice Ceremony**

"Owlfeather, you are ready for your first apprentice. You had a good mentor in Cedarcloud, and I hope you will pass on all that she taught you to Wingpaw."

Berrypaw listened to the deep voice of his leader from the edge of the small clearing. The whole Clan was gathered around the Old Root, a big, ancient stump that Howlingstar used to address the Clan for ceremonies and important announcements. Today it was a ceremony, the naming ceremony of two kits becoming apprentices.

Littlekit and Wingkit were two very popular young she-cats. They always had been talkative little furballs as far as Berrypaw remembered. Especially Wingkit. He had shared a den with them for four moons of his own kithood, and he remembered how much the little tortoiseshell could natter on about something as unimportant as a centipede. It seemed his one quiet moon as an apprentice was coming to an end, because after today he would once again be sharing a den with those two. Not that the older apprentices were particularly quiet…

As the newly-made apprentice touched noses with her mentor Berrypaw was taken back to his own apprentice ceremony.

He had been the only cat to be apprenticed during that ceremony. His mother had been so proud, and he so very excited. Meadowlark groomed his light brown fur until it was as soft as the fuzz on a dandelion. Everything in his life was perfect. His mother had seen to it that he had all the fresh-kill he wanted, he was free to do as he pleased all throughout camp, and whatever mischief he may have gotten into was quickly resolved by Meadowlark. She could get him out of anything. His apprentice ceremony had been the day that his life took a turn for the worst.

Howlingstar announced that his mentor was to be Slatefur, an old gray tomcat with a bad attitude. Like all of HollyClan, Berrypaw had always been somewhat in awe of Slatefur. His skill as a warrior was nearly legendary, and to be his apprentice would be a huge honor. He had a reputation of producing the best warriors, such as Nightfang and Oakfang, two massively built warrior toms who struck fear into the hearts of other Clans. Not many cats could tangle with those two and come out without serious injury.

Initially he revered his mentor and hung on to every word. But now… He watched in envy as Littlepaw was assigned Bearpelt as a mentor. _Why couldn't I have gotten anyone but him?_

"What's the matter Berrypaw? You're making some odd faces…" Leafpaw's green eyes were sparkling as she spoke. He hadn't noticed her approach. "Aren't you pleased to have your old denmates back? It'll be just like old times." Leafpaw and her sister, Sunpaw, were three moons older than Berrypaw. The young tom had always looked up to them simply because they were older, and nothing had changed now. They were all apprentices, but the two sisters seemed so much more confident than he felt. He thought that becoming an apprentice would suddenly make you feel more grown up, but he didn't feel any different.

"Of course." Berrypaw responded halfheartedly. "I'm just not looking forward to…" He trailed off when he spotted Slatefur marching purposefully across camp toward him. _Training…_

"Berrypaw." His mentor's greeting was flat. "It's time for training. Come on." He turned away and made for the camp entrance without waiting for his apprentice's response.

Berrypaw sighed and flicked his tail in farewell to Leafpaw before padding after his mentor.

Slatefur immediately picked up the pace once outside of camp, leaf litter flying up at his paws as he pelted into the forest. Berrypaw stumbled after him, his paws skidding on the fresh dew as he struggled to accelerate and keep pace with the gray tom. He inwardly berated himself for not anticipating this move from his mentor. Slatefur was quite fond of the abrupt takeoff.

They dashed through the forest along the familiar path to the sandy hollow. Most training sessions involving drills or battle practice were done here. Berrypaw knew for certain his mentor wasn't about to start teaching him how to fight.

Sure enough, when they came to a halt on the soft sand, the first words out of Slatefur's mouth were, "Alright, get started on your drills and don't stop until I say so."

The apprentice suppressed a groan and dropped into a crouch, as instructed. Slatefur's drills involved stalking from one end of the hollow to another until he decided that the technique was in the realm of adequate. So far Berrypaw had only received the order to stop for one technique, and that was the basic mouse-hunting technique that most Clan cats learned as kittens.

Eyes narrowed with concentration, the young tom stalked forward slowly. All his focus was on taking his weight onto his haunches and setting his paws down silently. Still, he flinched when sharp stones jabbed into his paw pads, making a tiny noise each time. He could tell he wasn't being quiet enough by the way Slatefur's right ear kept twitching in irritation.

Every day went like this. Berrypaw would do the drills, trying his hardest at first, but after several rebukes and disparaging comments from his mentor, he eventually gave up and simply went through the movements without actually trying. There had been many hungry nights as a result, but what could he do? He just wasn't a hunter. He felt in his marrow that he was destined to be a great fighter, but Slatefur insisted that the best warrior was well-rounded. Nightfang and Oakfang both contributed to the fresh-kill pile each night as well as patrolling the borders diligently, and the gray tom pointed this out each and every time Berrypaw brought it up. One of his favorite sayings was: "If you can't defeat a mouse, how can you expect to defeat a cat?"

A soft sigh escaped Berrypaw's lips, which brought forth a hiss from his mentor. "Focus!"

The apprentice stopped and stared at Slatefur, keeping his anger and frustration hidden under a blank mask. He had become very adept at hiding his emotions in the past moon, as Slatefur had the tendency to crack down on apprentices when he sensed the slightest hint of rebellion or attitude. Being an extrovert, Berrypaw had learned this the hard way.

Slatefur met his gaze steadily, forcing him to look away with an irritated twitch of the tail. The older tom gave a short growl and grumbled, "I guess this training method just isn't working with you. It worked fine for my other apprentices, but _you're_ something else." He hid it well under a cloak of annoyance and anger, but Berrypaw sensed that his mentor was disappointed in him. He glanced up resentfully and dug his claws into the sand.

"I'm supposed to assess you today. It's been a full moon since your training began." Slatefur said quietly, his eyes boring into his apprentice. "Go. Hunt. I will follow, unseen." His tail flicked dismissively.

Berrypaw, ears perked, trotted into the forest, feeling new life in his paws as well as a stab of apprehension. He knew as well as Slatefur that he had not once caught any prey, and yet the one moon assessment was one tradition that was as immoveable as the Warrior Code itself. Howlingstar himself would hear about Berrypaw's training at the end of today. He entertained the thought of not trying at all simply to shame Slatefur, but he dismissed the idea almost immediately. Slatefur's reputation ensured that the only one to experience shame would be Berrypaw himself.

_Why is this so hard?_ He thought, tasting the air as he loped out of sight of the training hollow. _The other apprentices make it look so easy. Did Leafpaw and Sunpaw struggle so much with their training the first moon? No…. Sunpaw brought home a fat rabbit her third day of training. Why couldn't that be me?_

Feeling the determination to prove himself course through his veins, Berrypaw began to pick his way silently and carefully through the undergrowth. He was surprised by how much easier it was to move quietly with damp leaves and twigs underpaw as opposed to the pokey little pebbles and spiky pods dropped from the sweet gum trees near the stream. He wondered if Slatefur had planned it that way on purpose, but gave a soft growl and focused all his senses on locating prey.

The forest was bright, brighter than Berrypaw could ever remember it being. Most of the leaves were gone from the trees, but as he peered upward, he could see countless buds fattening up before they would fan out as leaves in Newleaf. The past few days had been warm and sunny, and Berrypaw was eager to see his first Newleaf and Greenleaf, but Mouseheart, one of the senior warriors, had told him that it would not last. According to her it was too early for Newleaf, and yet the weather was balmy and the trees were producing leaves. Wasn't that what Newleaf was? When the trees made new leaves to replace the ones they dropped in Leaf-fall?

Berrypaw paused to look up at a tall maple. He didn't understand trees. A cat's coat thickened in preparation for the cold, but a tree lost all of its leaves. It just didn't make sense to him. Surely more leaves would serve to keep a tree toasty throughout Leafbare like fur would to a cat, right?

A scrabbling noise to Berrypaw's right caused the apprentice to jump. All he saw of the mouse was its little gray rump as it darted away and disappeared into its burrow at the base of a gnarled old ash tree. He had missed his chance!

Shaking his head, he turned his thoughts once more to the hunt, listening hard to the sounds of the forest. Small sparrows squabbled noisily somewhere near the treetops, completely beyond the young tom's reach. He blocked out that sound and strained his ears to hear things closer to the ground, pink nose quivering as he inhaled deeply in search of succulent prey scents.

The familiar sound of leaves being tossed aside caused Berrypaw to crouch readily, his gaze traveling to a small clearing where a fat robin was rooting around in search of worms. With all the slowness of grass growing, the light brown tabby inched closer and closer to his unsuspecting victim. His heart was pounding in his ears, quickening to almost unbearable speeds with each paw he put forward. Never before had he gotten so close to prey.

He gathered himself to pounce, amber eyes unblinking. But he waited too long.

Beak full of worms, the chubby bird took to the air, leaving a disappointed HollyClan apprentice behind it.

Berrypaw had never been more frustrated in his life. One more tail-length and he would have had it!

Growing clumsy in his annoyance, Berrypaw succeeded in losing two more mice, a shrew, and a winter-thin chipmunk before his mentor appeared at his side once more, the unreadable expression back on his face. The sky was tinged with orange and the shadows of the trees appeared never-ending. "Let us return to camp Berrypaw. It grows late."

Berrypaw bowed his head in acquiescence, too exhausted after his efforts to secure his first catch to even sulk after failing so miserably. He knew his mentor had seen, and he felt too embarrassed and unhappy with himself to even make eye-contact with the older cat. A moon of training and he could barely get close enough to feel the wind off a mouse as it dove into hiding!

"What did you learn today, Berrypaw?" Yellow gaze focused on the forest ahead, Slatefur did not look at his apprentice as he asked the question. Berrypaw simply plodded along without answering. Surely the gray warrior wasn't going to try and make this into some inspirational moment to get him to try harder? The young cat didn't think he could bear it. When he didn't show any sign of responding, Slatefur growled, "It wasn't a rhetorical question."

Berrypaw sighed and took a moment to choose his words carefully. A cheeky answer wouldn't win him any points with Slatefur and the prospect of going to his nest without eating didn't appeal to him, although he wouldn't be surprised if he ended up going hungry tonight anyway in light of that miserable performance.

"I learned not to take too long to pounce when stalking a robin."

"Anything else?"

It was the first time his mentor had used even a vaguely approving tone with him, so Berrypaw began going over his whole day again and trying to find the little lessons that might please his mentor. "I learned that remaining still and undetected will bring out more prey than rushing through the undergrowth. I learned that no matter how fast you are, mice are always faster… I learned that squirrels will sound an alarm and scare all the prey away if they see you…" He kept wracking his brain for another lesson, but turning up nothing he fell silent.

"So long as you learned something today, we have made progress. A warrior who cannot learn from his mistakes is not a warrior the Clan can count on." Slatefur cast a fleeting look at the young tom padding behind him. It seemed as though he might say something more, but then he faced forward and the two padded back to camp without another word between them.

"You may take prey tonight. I expect twice the effort tomorrow." Slatefur dismissed his apprentice as soon as they reached the camp entrance and padded off to share prey with Bearpelt near the huge holly bush that served as the warriors' den.

Relieved to be alone and free to do as he pleased, Berrypaw snatched a fat dove from the fresh-kill pile and hurried to the apprentices' den, which was set up in the tangled branches of a fallen oak tree. Moss, bracken, and feathers made up the floor of the den while a thick mat of branches and leaves made up the ceiling and walls. Generations of apprentices had worked to create a thick screen from the elements.

The den was empty when Berrypaw entered, much to his surprise. Before Wingpaw and Littlepaw there had been five apprentices total, so it was a shock to find no one asleep or sharing tongues at this time of day. Normally Berrypaw was the apprentice kept out the latest.

Meticulously, he plucked all the downy feathers from his dove and deposited them in the nests that had been laid out for the two newest apprentices. It would take awhile for the sisters to amass enough feathers to make a comfortable sleeping place, but he could give them this much.

As he nibbled on his dove, Berrypaw realized that he was more tired than hungry. He stared at the bird for a moment, wondering when his next chance to eat might be. It would probably be the next night if he caught prey… _If._ That shouldn't even be a problem for an apprentice in his second moon of training!

Feeling slightly sick and depressed, Berrypaw abandoned his prey and padded over to his nest. Someone else would eat it.

As he was circling to get comfortable Sunpaw and Leafpaw padded into the den. Leafpaw's jaws split into a giant yawn as soon as she set foot into the den, but Sunpaw still looked like she was full of energy.

"Hi Berrypaw!" Sunpaw meowed. "How was your-" A startled squeak escaped her lips and she flinched back when Leafpaw's paw suddenly thwacked her forehead solidly.

"Sorry, spider." The brown tabby meowed apologetically, one eye closing in a quick wink at Berrypaw. He was grateful for her interference. He had no wish to share how his assessment went, and he got the impression Leafpaw knew that. She had always been somewhat more attuned to the feelings of others than her sibling.

"I'll show you spider!" Sunpaw tackled the bigger cat in retaliation, leading to a lengthy scuffle between the two sisters.

A small shower of feathers shot up as Berrypaw flopped down into his nest, resting his head on his paws and closing his eyes. He was exhausted, but sleep would not come right away. He listened to his denmates' play-fighting and had almost been lulled to sleep by the familiar sound when the rest of the apprentices returned from training.

"She-cat fight." Duckpaw commented as he entered the den. Berrypaw heard the two she-cats break apart to greet their fellow apprentices.

"How was training?" Leafpaw asked, sounding amused.

"I'm not done. Greenwhisker's got me on the moonrise patrol tonight. I just have a little time to eat right now before I go." Berrypaw recognized the deep voice of Stormpaw. The black tom had been nothing more than a loner wandering the forest when HollyClan found him, but Clan life seemed to come natural to him. Duckpaw, too, didn't seem to have a hard time adapting.

"You can eat this!" Berrypaw heard Littlepaw's excited mew and the thump of something heavy being deposited on the floor. From the appreciative comments it drew from the other apprentices, it must have been prey.

"Wow! That's nearly as big as you, Wingpaw. Who caught it?"

"Wingpaw did." Littlepaw announced proudly.

"Berrypaw! Do you want to come share with us?" Berrypaw felt a small paw prod his side and he opened his eyes to see Wingpaw's eager face a whisker's length in front of his own.

"No thanks." He growled, rolling onto his side to face the back of the den. A disappointed silence followed, but it was quickly dispelled by Leafpaw.

"I would like some Wingpaw. It's a very impressive first catch. The fattest squirrel I've seen in moons!"

As his denmates chattered happily about Wingpaw's first catch, Berrypaw covered his face with his paws and fought the urge to wail. Why did Wingpaw have to make her first catch so easily? It just wasn't fair!


	3. StormClan: A Kittypet in Need

**StormClan: A Kittypet in Need**

Warmth tickled Graynose's whiskers as he basked contentedly in the midday sunlight. With heated stone pressed against his back and a lovely newleaf breeze passing over him, the StormClan warrior was reluctant to move. A soft sigh escaped his lips as he stared up at the bright blue sky above. It was so peaceful.

Leaf-bare had been hard on his Clan this season-cycle. Never in living memory had StormClan been so low on able-bodied cats. With the loss of Whitefur, Longfang, and Darkthunder, the Clan was extraordinarily weak. Everyone was tense, and Graynose was no exception. There had been too many deaths and too few kits.

The white warrior shifted around to lie on his belly and rest his head on his paws, looking out over StormClan's rocky territory. From here he could see HollyClan's forest, as well as the twoleg territory far beyond Clan borders. This was his favorite place to sit and simply enjoy his own company.

Graynose was an odd cat, almost an outcast among his Clanmates. A StormClan cat was always overzealous about their loyalty to the warrior code and StarClan. They were fiercely devoted to each other and their ancestors, each cat working tirelessly to prove themselves and win their place beside the starry warriors. As a result, they were raised to be outspoken about their beliefs and devotion to StarClan. Graynose was just the opposite.

It wasn't that he didn't believe in StarClan, Graynose was as in awe of their warrior ancestors as any cat, but the warrior did not push himself to the limit to prove it to his Clanmates. The only cats who need judge him were StarClan themselves. He knew he was a good warrior, and nothing would change that. His Clan was his life, each and every cat was important to him. Even if they viewed him as somewhat of an oddball.

Graynose opened his eyes a slit to watch as a pair of sparrows danced through the sky above him, locked in an aerial battle for territory. Their angry chirps reminded him that it was time for him to be going. Clear weather like this meant that prey would be running well for the first time in over a moon, and there were always hungry mouths to feed back at camp. Especially now, when Redfern and Mistypool were so close to kitting. The hopeful Clan was showering the pair of queens with fresh-kill, desperately hoping for plenty of kits to get them through their rough patch.

With a single leap, Graynose launched himself from the rock where he had been sunning himself and pinned one of the sparrows to the earth, silencing its startled shriek with a swift bite to the neck. The other bird took off instantly, frantically calling out the alarm. Graynose watched it go before kicking some dead grass over his catch.

The bird would have warned off any prey in the area, but Graynose did not intend to hang around that place anymore. He had been sent to hunt along the outside border, the border that StormClan did not share with other Clans. It was a rarely-patrolled area. Graynose knew there would be less chance of running into other patrols, and the prey around there would be less wary than the birds and mice that roamed the heart of StormClan land.

He set a brisk pace for himself, working out the stiffness that had accumulated in his muscles after lying still for so long. Graynose was not a young cat, nor was he old. He was in the peak of physical fitness, and he put his extensive warrior training to good use every time he set paw outside of camp.

The air near the mountaintop was refreshing, but much chillier than the lower areas. Graynose's thick coat shielded him from the nippy air, and his coloring made it much easier for him to stalk prey in an area that still held onto Leafbare snow.

He made quick work catching a juvenile stoat, its coat still Leafbare-white, and a small dormouse. As he buried his prey beneath a patch of snow, a thin wailing carried by the wind reached his ears. The tom paused, angling his ears toward the sound and listening intently. He recognized the sound of cats screeching as two scents wafted into his nose: StormClan and blood.

Without hesitation Graynose sprinted over the next rise, leaping deftly from rock to rock to help his Clanmates. When he crested the slope, he stopped in horror.

Two warriors of his Clan were savaging another cat, a cream-colored cat with dark markings on his face, legs, tail, and ears. He was bigger than the two warriors, but it was clear that the tom had known nothing but softness. Each attempt he made to get away was easily brought to a halt by the two StormClan cats. The tom's wild blue eyes met Graynose's, and he let out a terrified wail as Cloudflower sank her teeth deep into his leg.

"For StarClan's sake, stop!" Graynose yowled, streaking down from his viewpoint to barrel into Cloudflower. The soft-furred she-cat let out a yelp of surprise, but backed away quickly with sheathed claws and wide eyes when she realized that it was Graynose who had shoved her.

"What are you doing?" Blackclaw aimed a final swipe at the intruder and whirled around to face Graynose, whiskers quivering with fury. "That's a trespasser, Graynose! Or had you forgotten that StormClan cats actually chase away outsiders like him?"

"You've done enough!" Graynose said sharply, thrusting his face forward until his nose was almost touching the aggressive tabby's. "A warrior doesn't need to kill to win his battles. Look at him! You can't chase a cat away if he's too injured to walk."

The strange cat's body was shaking uncontrollably as he struggled to get to his paws. Each time he was almost completely up, his hind leg would give out and he would collapse in a whimpering heap of fur. Graynose had never seen a cat so petrified and incoherent. The cat's fur littered the ground in thick clumps, and he was bleeding from several scratches along his shoulders and back. He had obviously been quite taken by surprise.

"I'm not the one who bit his leg." Blackclaw argued, shooting an accusing look at Cloudflower.

"You said not to let him escape!" The cream-colored she-cat protested.

The dark tabby curled his lip and was about to respond, but Graynose cut him off, "It doesn't matter who did what. You should both know better. We are _not_ murderers, we're Clan cats."

Cloudflower looked at the ground, ashamed, but Blackclaw simply gazed at Graynose with narrowed amber eyes. Graynose and Blackclaw had been apprentices at around the same time, but the two had never seen eye to eye on a lot of things. Blackclaw had always been an arrogant tom, taunting the other apprentices often and boasting excessively whenever he was in a battle. He was a good warrior, but Graynose wished he would show a little more compassion to others, especially his own Clanmates.

"He's going to need treatment. Let's take him to Cinderfang." Graynose meowed decisively.

"And give up some of our herbs to some stray?" Blackclaw hissed, outraged.

"He's going to die if we don't." Graynose said calmly, meeting Blackclaw's angry gaze. "I know it will use up our resources, but we risk bringing down the wrath of our ancestors if we turn our backs on a cat in need like this."

"StarClan rewards compassion." Cloudflower meowed softly, nodding in agreement.

"Mouse-hearts." Blackclaw spat, turning on his heels and bounding off with his tail bristling.

Graynose exchanged a glance with Cloudflower. "He'll let the Clan know we're coming. Come on, let's get him to Cinderfang."

The white tom padded cautiously toward the injured cat, who was lying still and breathing heavily, eyes glazed with pain. Graynose couldn't help but admire the tom's eyes. They were a beautiful shade of sky blue, one that was rarely seen in StormClan. Blue eyes and pale coats were revered in StormClan, which stemmed from the old belief that those born with blue eyes and white coats were favored by StarClan and destined for greatness. It was an ancient superstition, but one that was still highly referenced throughout the Clan.

"Can you walk?" Graynose asked gently.

The tom flinched at the sound of the warrior's voice, scrambling clumsily to his paws and crouching awkwardly with his tail twitching nervously. Graynose felt faintly contemptuous at the cat's lack of challenge. No Clan cat would ever allow himself to be beaten up and seen in such pathetic condition, but, he reminded himself, this cat was not Clan. He was probably a lost kittypet.

"Come on. On your feet." The warrior nudged the dark-faced tom to his paws, offering him his shoulder to lean on when he started sliding sideways. On his other side, Cloudflower hurried to offer her support.

Going was slow, but as they plodded along Graynose noticed that the wounded tom ceased trembling and began surveying his surroundings curiously. The shock of his earlier predicament seemed to be wearing off, but the tom still flinched from time to time when either of his escorts made any sudden movements.

"You have a name?" Graynose asked, trying to put him at ease.

"G-Gizmo." The cat meowed, his voice unusually soft for a tom.

Graynose blinked. "That's a weird name."

The tom didn't respond.

"My name is Graynose." Graynose introduced himself, trying to keep the conversation going. "And she's Cloudflower. We're taking you to see someone who can treat your wounds."

Gizmo looked at Graynose warily. "Why would you do that?"

"Pity." Graynose meowed bluntly. "You got your tail handed to you."

Gizmo averted his eyes.

"He _is_ a kittypet." Cloudflower meowed defensively, although her words came across more as insults than helpful excuses. "Everyone knows that kittypets let their twolegs fight for them."

Gizmo was about to respond when a patrol of warriors raced up to meet them, headed by Quailear, a thick-furred brown tom with black tufts of fur shooting off of his ear tips. Quailear glanced at Gizmo and flicked his tail to Dawnpaw, a dark tabby she-cat. "Help Graynose get him to Cinderfang." The older warrior ordered. "Cloudflower, Ivystar would like to speak with you. She just wants to hear from every cat what happened on the border." He said the second part soothingly, noticing Cloudflower's alarm.

The she-cat shot Graynose a nervous look before hurrying away.

Dawnpaw hovered nearby as Graynose and Gizmo trekked more slowly down the slope. StormClan's camp was a hollow carved into the mountainside by rockslides. Overtime, the area was hollowed out and rocks came to rest just above it, collecting over time to form an impressive barrier that protected the Clan cats from a variety of elements. On the opposite side, the earth had been pushed to the side, creating a steep slope where the StormClan cats kept watch, day in and day out.

The three Clan cats guided Gizmo toward the well-hidden camp entrance, pushing him through the bracken when he hesitated. His eyes widened as he was greeted with the hostile faces of the StormClan cats. Graynose felt him tense up, but continued to nudge him onward. No cat could remember the last time an outsider had been brought straight into the heart of StormClan.

"I can take it from here." Graynose told Dawnpaw as they reached the edge of the open area and began to descend into the wide cave mouth of the Medicine Den. Cinderfang was already peering out at them with his pale green eyes, whiskers quivering as he tasted the air. Seeing the apprentice hesitate, Graynose purred, "Do you think I can't handle a wounded kittypet on my own? Thanks a lot!"

Dawnpaw blinked at him in surprise at the joke, but she purred in return. "Well, it's not my fault if they find your crumpled corpse in front of the Medicine Den later." With a flick of her tail, she bounded off to find her denmates.

"Who is this?" Cinderfang asked, sniffing the injured tom as Graynose guided him to one of the moss nests near the rear of the den. The medicine cat always sounded somewhat short, but Graynose knew him to be a kind-hearted cat. For a brief period of time they had been apprentices together, and Graynose had always admired his sense of fairness. "Smells like a kittypet."

"One of our patrols got a little out of hand while trying to drive him off. He was too weak to walk away on his own." Graynose explained, turning to face the big gray tom as Gizmo collapsed in his nest.

Cinderfang rested his tail on Graynose's shoulder. "You did the right thing. StarClan will be pleased." Graynose dipped his head respectfully, glowing inwardly at the praise. Hearing something like that from the medicine cat, the cat closest to StarClan in all of StormClan, was indeed a meaningful compliment.

"Now go on." Cinderfang meowed brusquely. "I have work to do, and I imagine Ivystar will wish to speak with you."

…

"Why did you help that outsider?" Silverbranch growled, pacing the length of the Leader's Den restlessly. "You of all cats know we haven't the herbs or prey to spare." Each pawstep was accompanied by a _crrch_ as her paws sank into the soft sand. The pretty silver she-cat seemed highly agitated, although why Graynose could not say.

StormClan's leader watched her calmly, sitting straight and tall in her nest. Her leaf-green eyes were clear and serene as she listened to Graynose's explanation.

"StormClan owes it to that cat to see that his wounds are treated." Graynose stated firmly, meeting Silverbranch's eyes and then Ivystar's. "The Warrior Code does state that all intruders are to be driven off of Clan land, yes, but that's all it says. _Driven off._ Not maimed and left unable to walk. 'A warrior does not have to kill to win his battles.'" Graynose quoted. "And he would have certainly been dead had I left him there."

Silverbranch finally sat down, curling her tail around her paws and looking thoughtful. The StormClan deputy was slightly older than Graynose, and he knew her personality well. She was one of the most loyal cats in the Clan, but sometimes she got too riled up to think properly, which Graynose did not hold against her. He had seen her command cats through many tough situations, and she could be quite the inspirational figure when she had to be.

She looked at her leader, more reasonable than before. "Ivystar?"

"I think Graynose did the right thing. StarClan rewards kindness." Ivystar meowed softly, nodding her approval. "He meant no disloyalty, and he does happen to be correct. A noble Clan cat does not kill his rivals. I say we let the outsider stay long enough for his wounds to heal. We can send him off after that."

"Thank you, Ivystar." Graynose meowed, relieved. Part of him had been concerned that Ivystar would be swayed by Blackclaw and decide to abandon the cat, which seemed to be the popular choice among the Clan. He should have put more trust in his leader.

Ivystar gave him a long look. "No Graynose. Thank _you_."


	4. RavenClan: The Rogues

**RavenClan: The Rogues**

"Ashpaw, slow down. StormClan isn't going anywhere." Yewstar winced as Marshfang bellowed at the apprentice. Ahead of them, the little blue-gray tom came to a screeching halt and looked back at them with wide blue eyes.

"It's good that he's exploring." RavenClan's leader said mildly to the shaggy warrior.

"It won't be good if he wanders right across the border." Marshfang rumbled, bright yellow eyes scanning the horizon. Yewstar followed his gaze, examining the marshy land rolling before them. Small tufts of cattails and marsh grasses poked up from the frosty ground. The view was rather barren at this time of year, when the warm winds were just beginning to thaw the layer of ice over RavenClan land. To make it worse, the sky above was slate gray, accenting the monotonous beige coloring of the ground below. In weather like this everything took on an ethereal feel, outlines of creatures and plants suddenly becoming harder to make out.

"Is something wrong?" Ashpaw asked anxiously as the rest of the patrol joined up with him.

"Stay with the patrol now Ashpaw. We're close to the border." Yewstar meowed, flicking his ear with her tail.

"Will we see any StormClan cats?" The apprentice looked suddenly alarmed. Yewstar knew any other apprentice would have relished the opportunity, but Ashpaw was not the most aggressive young cat in the Clan. At the mere mention of battle he would often go quiet and start looking uneasy. She hoped his first battle would help dispel his fears, because she knew she would need every strong cat she could get in the future.

"StarClan willing, no." Marshfang grunted, his bushy black tail twitching.

"You never know." Yewstar answered the apprentice, amusement in her mew. "Border patrols always have to stay alert. We don't want trouble with StormClan while prey is still so scarce."

"Roseclaw said they like to start trouble no matter what season it is." Ashpaw mewed nervously.

"Border patrols like to swap insults whenever they meet." Marshfang gave a throaty purr. "The trick is not to be goaded into ripping the tails off the insolent furballs. Roseclaw tends to get a little more… aggravated than others."

Yewstar paused to taste the air. "I don't smell anything. Let's be quick. I don't want any nonsense from StormClan today. They can save it for the gathering if they have anything to say."

Marshfang gave a growl of assent while Ashpaw kept casting wary glances up along the mountainside. The slope along StormClan's border was very mild, descending gently into RavenClan's boggy territory. Without the scent markers, it would be easy to accidentally wander across. StormClan was especially careful to mark this border above all others. Sometimes it seemed to Yewstar that they often tried to drown out RavenClan scent-markers altogether.

"We'll start here and make our way north." Yewstar said, sniffing the dirt carefully. They were the second patrol to pass by here today, but the previous patrol had already marked along the part of the southern part of the border, closest to where all the Clans' territories met. The patrol had been interrupted when Featherfur scented a fresh fox scent and returned immediately to camp to report it. The scent was stale now. Hopefully the red-furred devil had moved on, or crossed into StormClan territory.

The patrol moved along quickly. Yewstar felt herself relaxing as they padded on, finding no evidence of their borders being crossed. She was turning to tell Marshfang that they had been rather lucky today when a strong StormClan scent met her nostrils. Her head snapped around, seeing a rival patrol pelting down toward them from further up the mountain.

The golden she-cat groaned inwardly at the sight of the silver cat leading it. It was none other than Silverbranch, StormClan's feisty deputy. Running beside her was a cream-colored she-cat and a white tom with a pure black tail. Behind them was a smaller, snowy-white she-cat. Yewstar recognized the warriors, Cloudflower and Falconclaw, but she could not name the younger cat with them.

"See if they'll leave us alone." She hissed quietly to her Clanmates, shooing them along the border.

"Yewstar!" The haughty voice of Silverbranch rang out.

_Mouse-dung!_

"Think we can still ignore them?" Marshfang asked, eyes sparkling with laughter as Yewstar shot him a dirty look before turning to face the approaching patrol.

"What are you doing here?" Silverbranch demanded, skidding to a halt just on the inside of the border. Her ears were flat and her nostrils flared aggressively. She wanted a fight.

"Marking my borders, same as you." Yewstar meowed evenly, golden eyes unblinking. Silverbranch was the bigger cat, and maybe the prettier cat, but no one could deny that RavenClan's leader commanded the attention and respect of every cat there, much as Silverbranch would wish it otherwise.

"No RavenClan patrol is to patrol here without an accompanying StormClan patrol." Silverbranch hissed, tail lashing from side to side. "You two-faced mouse-brains can't be trusted so close to StormClan's borders."

"You don't tell us what to do, Silverbranch." Yewstar said, her gaze not moving from Silverbranch's. She had never heard such an absurd notion. Did she think that RavenClan was going to share when their patrols would go out with a rival Clan? "Ivystar is only leader from this scent line on."

"That won't stop us from escorting you up and down the border." Silverbranch said smugly, sitting down and curling her gray tail over her paws.

"Whatever you want. Just stay on your side." Yewstar shrugged and turned away from the rival patrol. She didn't have to glance back to feel the annoyance radiating off of StormClan's deputy at her lack of a reaction.

Seeing the anger in Marshfang's expression, she gave him a warning look. As his fur began to lie flat again, she took the lead once more and carried on along the border, each step she took shadowed by Silverbranch on the opposite side. "Just ignore them, Ashpaw." Yewstar meowed to the apprentice, who was flicking his tail in irritation and casting uneasy glances at the enemy patrol.

"Your Clan must be weak for you to allow something like this." Silverbranch sneered. "If it were me, I would have attacked instantly rather than allowing another Clan tell me what to do."

The three RavenClan cats ignored the comment, moving along with tails held high and ears perked. Whenever Marshfang or Yewstar looked over the border, they made sure that their expressions were blank as they passed over the enemy cats, as though they were no more than rocks or brush. Ashpaw, however, could not help but glance worriedly between his leader and the StormClan cats whenever Silverbranch made a snide comment about their Clan. Yewstar rather felt like she was letting the young tom down, but she knew StormClan. A shrug would do more damage to their egos than a few snarled words ever would, and if there was one thing every RavenClan cat enjoyed, it was getting under StormClan's fur.

"Are all RavenClan cats so ugly?" The StormClan apprentice asked her mentor, holly green gaze sweeping critically over the three cats. Yewstar could tell that she was a particularly brainwashed StormClan specimen. She already had the smug and knowing look that most of the mountain cats had, but it was as though there was no youthful energy left in her. She moved with graceful, controlled movements. There was none of the clumsy enthusiasm of a 'paw in her, although it was still clear that she was still quite young.

"I'm afraid so, Pinepaw." Silverbranch said, shaking her head sadly. "This is what becomes of a Clan when their noble blood is diluted by loners and kittypets. They lose their StarClan-given strength, wisdom, and grace."

"You never seem too graceful when you have to walk on marshy ground." Ashpaw meowed angrily, seeing Cloudflower stumble over a clump of springy marsh grass.

"That's because no cat should have to live in this StarClan-forsaken environment." Falconclaw growled. "Apprentices should only speak when they are spoken to."

"At least our apprentices have manners." Marshfang growled.

"Let's go." Yewstar meowed, signaling to her cats with her tail. She sensed the situation deteriorating as the two patrols started exchanging insults.

"Yes, run away little RavenClan cats." Cloudflower purred. Beside her, Silverbranch'a eyes flashed triumphantly.

Yewstar sighed as Marshfang stepped slowly and deliberately up to the border. He was a huge cat, towering over almost every cat in all the Clans. His shaggy fur and wide yellow eyes gave him an intimidating appearance. All of the StormClan cats took a step back.

"Watch yourselves." He rumbled ominously. "The day will come when you taunt the wrong cat, and he'll box your ears for you."

"Is that a threat?" Silverbranch hissed.

"It's a promise." Marshfang meowed solemnly, un-cowed by the StormClan deputy's wrath.

"Such impudence!" Pinepaw screeched, bouncing forward slightly with her claws unsheathed. "Silverbranch, let's teach him a lesson."

"What was that about apprentices speaking out of turn?" Yewstar padded up to stand beside her Clanmate, meeting the apprentice's angry gaze.

"I should teach you a lesson." Silverbranch snarled, flexing her own claws. "You can't even keep your own patrol under control."

"A good leader listens to her Clanmates." Yewstar said shortly, her tail beginning to lash back and forth as she faced off with the silver she-cat.

Falconclaw crouched down, ready to spring on Marshfang at his deputy's command. Yewstar realized that they were not going to get away without a fight this time, but she also realized that she didn't care. For a long, cold season her Clanmates had been forced to endure the insults and jibes of StormClan for fear of a war they could not win. But Yewstar knew they were strong now, with kits in the nursery and apprentices rapidly becoming strong young warriors. It was time to show StormClan that they were not afraid.

Yewstar raised her tail, getting ready to lead her cats into battle.

"Stop!"

The growls died in every cat's throat as they collectively raised their heads to look at the cat hurrying toward them from the StormClan side of the border. Yewstar felt a wave of relief at the sight of a familiar gray face.

"I thought you were patrolling, Silverbranch, not trying to start a war." The tom said coolly, coming to a halt in front of the StormClan deputy.

"And I thought you were gathering herbs, Cinderfang, not interfering in warrior business." Silverbranch meowed icily.

"Warrior business is my business, just as herbs are your business. You know I don't have enough to treat you." Cinderfang growled. "What am I supposed to do if you all get infected scratches from these fleabags?"

Silverbranch appeared to mull this over for a long moment before she finally dipped her head to the medicine cat and meowed, "Forgive me Cinderfang. I thought you were just being soft with these mange-ridden creatures. I will take your advice… for now." She turned her blue glare to Yewstar. "Consider yourselves lucky." With a flick of her tail, she and the rest of her patrol disappeared up into StormClan territory, leaving the RavenClan patrol with the StormClan medicine cat.

"Now be gone. I don't want you causing any more trouble." Cinderfang mewed gruffly to Yewstar. He was a handsome cat, despite his age. Yewstar was one of the few cats who remembered this broad-shouldered tom as a warrior. It was easy to see where his kit name had come from: he had a dark gray coat with a splash of ginger on his chest and face. He had been a formidable warrior, and now he was a good medicine cat.

"Of course." Yewstar said smoothly, inclining her head slightly to the StormClan cat before turning and leading her Clanmates briskly along the border to finish their patrol in peace.

"Thank StarClan there's one cat in StormClan with a good head on his shoulders." Marshfang grumbled.

"Why did he help us like that?" Ashpaw asked Yewstar, peering quizzically up at his leader.

"You heard what he said. They must be running low on herbs." The golden she-cat said with a casual shrug. StormClan had been putting on quite a show of strength recently, so she rather doubted that they were as weak as Cinderfang made it sound. "At least we know they won't cause trouble for a few moons yet, when the useful herbs have grown back."

"Still, I don't like accepting help from a cat from another Clan like that." Marshfang complained. "And now they won't respect us at all."

"We'll make sure we send bigger patrols along here in the future." Yewstar meowed, more to herself than to Marshfang. "I'll make sure Smokepatch knows that we are done being passive with those uppity furballs."

Filled with energy at the thought of giving StormClan what they deserved, Marshfang and Ashpaw surged ahead of their leader. They did not notice her cast a long glance back toward StormClan territory.


	5. HollyClan: Meadowlark

**HollyClan: Meadowlark**

Berrypaw woke as the first trill of birdsong echoed through the forest. Sighing inwardly, he got to his paws and tiptoed out of the den, careful not to wake any of the other apprentices. Stormpaw had come back from his night patrol and was curled up between Duckpaw and Leafpaw. He couldn't suppress a soft purr of amusement when he saw the brown and white tabby's face covered by Sunpaw's front paws. The golden she-cat was a notoriously fidgety denmate, as Berrypaw had learned as a kit.

Outside, the Clan was just stirring. As Berrypaw sat giving himself a morning wash he saw Howlingstar exchanging words with his mate, a black she-cat named Shadewing. Icehawk, Dapplefur, and Wildbreeze were sharing prey not far from the fresh-kill pile. From their ruffled pelts and quick, alert movements, he guessed that they must have been the midnight patrol, which returned just before dawn each and every morning. Behind him, he heard the other apprentices stirring. Not feeling up to a chat with any of them, he padded toward the warriors' den in search of his mentor. No doubt Slatefur would be surprised to see him awake without someone having to fetch him from a deep slumber.

"Berrypaw!" His ears perked as Shadewing called his name. What did the leader's mate want with him? Besides Slatefur and Meadowlark, he did not have much contact with other warriors.

The young tom dipped his head respectfully as he approached the senior warrior. "Yes, Shadewing?"

"Slatefur went out with the dawn patrol this morning. He said he didn't think you would be awake until he got back after your assessment yesterday." Shadewing meowed, her whiskers twitching. Berrypaw wished he could disappear into the dirt underpaw. He didn't dare glance at Howlingstar, fearing he might see a reflection of Shadewing's carefully blank expression. The she-cat went on, not seeming to notice his discomfort. "I don't want you doing nothing while he's away. Find someone to go hunting with until sunhigh. One of your denmates, perhaps. I'll tell Slatefur where you are when he gets back."

"Yes, Shadewing." Berrypaw backed away and then trotted back toward the apprentices' den to see if one of the other apprentices was free. Although he relished the thought of spending time away from Slatefur, he felt apprehension flutter in his belly like a trapped bird. What if he made a fool of himself in front of one of his denmates? They would never let him live it down.

"Leafpaw? Are you free to go hunting today?" He decided that if he messed up that the patient she-cat would be more understanding than the others.

The older apprentice looked up from where she was grooming herself just outside the den. "Sorry Berrypaw. Mapleheart told me to meet her beside the RavenClan border after I had eaten this morning. Sunpaw may be free though. I can wake her if-"

"Berrypaw! Go hunting with me!" Both apprentices looked up at the sing-song voice of Meadowlark. Berrypaw's mother was a very pretty she-cat, with wide green eyes and a soft brown and white coat, which she groomed zealously. She placed herself between Berrypaw and Leafpaw and started licking her son's head, much to his chagrin. "We'll catch a whole forest full of mice. Then you can eat your fill!" She meowed happily between licks.

"Yes, mother." Berrypaw meowed with a sigh. There was no arguing with Meadowlark.

"Perfect! Come along then." Meadowlark flounced away with a stylish toss of her head and flick of her tail.

"See you around Leafpaw." Berrypaw said hastily before following his mother, tail up.

Meadowlark started off with a purposeful air, striding confidently out into the forest. But as they went, Berrypaw noticed her path became somewhat erratic and aimless. She kept going with a cheerful gait, chattering to Berrypaw about how mundane her warrior tasks had been the day before. "I had to go give Owlfeather a paw with Wingpaw. That little brat is noisy! Asks far too many questions if you ask me. Owlfeather seemed to find it amusing, StarClan knows why. I would have cuffed the chatty furball about the ears if it were me. That would teach her respect! It doesn't matter that she caught a squirrel her first try, she just doesn't have the frame to make a powerful warrior. I bet once she's gotten her name it'll be straight to the nursery with a nest full of mewling kittens."

Uncomfortable hearing his mother say such things about the cheerful young apprentice, Berrypaw began to drop back and listen to the sounds of the forest. He was determined to bring home fresh-kill today. Without Slatefur looming over him and silently disapproving of every action he felt more relaxed.

The sound of tiny paws scampering across the forest floor caused Berrypaw to freeze. Meadowlark continued on ahead, oblivious to her son's absence. Satisfied that she was far enough away not to disturb his hunt, Berrypaw crouched low to the ground and crept slowly toward the sound. A pang of annoyance shot through him when his twitching tail brushed lightly against a frond of dead bracken. There was a sharp rustling as the creature dashed to its den and disappeared underground.

Berrypaw wanted to shriek his aggravation to StarClan, but he held his tongue and remained crouched down, ears focused on relocating his prey. Maybe if he remained still, his prey would reappear. After all, it clearly hadn't been frightened off for long after Meadowlark passed through, and she was being pretty loud.

Immediately after making the decision to stay still Berrypaw's paws began to itch. He wanted to lash his tail to distract himself, but that was also a movement that would give him away. Instead, he concentrated on tasting the air and listening for any sign that his quarry might return. From the smell he identified the creature as a shrew.

Only a few moments passed before the foolhardy creature ventured out of its burrow, although to Berrypaw each minute felt like a moon. Cautiously, the apprentice began to inch forward again, taking more care to move slowly and not brush against anything or step too heavily. Slatefur had taught him that shrews relied primarily on scents and sounds to detect predators, as they had terrible eyesight.

A light breeze was carrying both Berrypaw's scent and the shrew's scent away. He wasn't exactly downwind, as was ideal, but at least the wind wasn't blowing his scent directly at his prey. The apprentice couldn't quell the excitement rising in his chest as he got close enough to pounce. He gathered himself, prepared to leap and pin down the shrew…

"So this is where you've been!" Berrypaw nearly jumped out of his fur when his mother appeared at his side without warning. With an angry hiss, he leaped at the shrew in one last attempt to catch it. But the rodent had already vanished into its den.

"Meadowlark!" A kittenish whine escaped his throat as he faced his mother. "I was hunting!"

"Oh, I'm sorry!" The pretty she-cat's eyes widened in dismay. In an effort to comfort him, she started to babble, "I didn't realize you were hungry. I'll catch you something else, my cutie kit. Something much better than a scrawny shrew like that! You can have your pick: dove or rabbit? I know you like doves; you always have ever since you were a kitten. How about that then, a dove for my little Ber-Ber?"

Seeing her guilty expression, Berrypaw's fur began to lie flat again, but he couldn't help but be mortified by the nickname. "I told you not to call me that anymore!"

"It's just us, Ber-B-… I mean, Berrypaw." Meadowlark said soothingly. "You know you'll always be my little kit."

"I'm an apprentice." Berrypaw lifted his chin and then found himself quoting Slatefur. "Apprentices hunt for themselves!"

To his chagrin, Meadowlark purred and rubbed her cheek against his. "My brave little warrior! You shouldn't have to worry about finding food. What has Slatefur been telling you? You're going to be a great warrior, defending your Clan righteously. You don't have time to be scrounging for mice." She started licking his forehead to smooth his fur, but he ducked away.

"I have to hunt, mother. I have to get better or I'll _never _be a warrior!" He argued, frustration prickling his pelt. Meadowlark had always given him what he wanted in the past. She had always understood him. Why could she not see that he wanted to hunt? He didn't want to be the cat the other apprentices ridiculed because he had never caught a mouse!

"Is that what Slatefur told you?" Meadowlark's eyes were green slits and her tail-tip twitched.

Berrypaw nodded.

"I'll talk to him." Meadowlark sniffed. "He doesn't need to be scaring you like that."

"I doubt he'll listen." Berrypaw sighed. He couldn't see his mother's charm and persuasion working on the grumpy old tom.

"Don't worry about that." Meadowlark mewed, suddenly purring again. "Let's get you fed. Wait here!" Before Berrypaw could say anything, the she-cat whisked away and disappeared into the undergrowth.

The young tom scuffed at the earth in front of him. He knew it was wrong to allow Meadowlark to hunt for him like this. They were both supposed to be hunting for the Clan, and _the Clan must be fed first_. That was drilled into every apprentice's head from the moment they set foot in the forest shade outside of camp.

And yet… why should he be forced to practice a skill he clearly wasn't good at? He should be focusing on finding his talent, not practicing an ability he would never master. Fighting was his calling, it had to be. It was the only option open to him with a medicine cat apprentice already chosen. One would have to be blind anyway to think Berrypaw might have any skill with herbs.

Berrypaw sniffed hopefully around the hole where his shrew had disappeared, but the tiny rodent didn't show so much as a whisker. A mockingbird's alarm call from deeper in the forest caused him to flinch involuntarily, his spine stiffening as he scanned the area warily. Suddenly the woods were eerily quiet.

Meadowlark reappeared with a fat rabbit in her jaws, the mouthwatering scent of prey reminding Berrypaw of how hungry he was. His last piece of prey had been his dove the previous night, and he had barely touched that. All thought of the bird's alarm call was driven from his mind.

"Eat up." Meadowlark cooed, settling down to watch her son as he tore hungrily into the rabbit. His mother had always been an excellent hunter.

"What's going on here?" Berrypaw's heart nearly stopped when a patrol of warriors materialized out of the brush. It was a HollyClan patrol. The very same patrol his mentor was on. Slatefur's eyes flashed angrily at the sight of his apprentice. Berrypaw shrank in his fur.

Meadowlark rose slowly to her paws, her green glare locked with HollyClan's deputy, Mapleheart. The big she-cat towered over the slightly-built Meadowlark, but Berrypaw's mother was not about to back down.

Her Clanmates took a few steps back as Mapleheart's tail started slowly lashing back and forth, her pale green gaze unblinking. Without looking away, she addressed Berrypaw. "Berrypaw, are you on a hunting patrol?"

"Yes." Berrypaw answered, his throat suddenly dry. He could not even look at the other cats in the patrol.

"And yet you're eating what you caught." An edge crept into Mapleheart's meow.

"So what? We were hungry." Meadowlark growled, the fur along her spine bristling.

"You know better Meadowlark!" The deputy thundered, her patience at an end. "_You're a warrior._ How dare you break the code? How dare you teach Berrypaw bad habits?"

"Berrypaw is my son!" Meadowlark snarled back, not at all cowed by the bigger cat's admonishments or aggressive stance. "I won't make the same mistakes with him that I did with you."

There was a shocked gasp from Leafpaw, Mapleheart's apprentice.

"Berrypaw is not your kit anymore." Mapleheart's voice was abruptly quiet, full of barely contained fury. "His education will be handled by the Clan from now on. Stay away from him, or StarClan help me, I will deal with you."

Meadowlark hissed furiously and hared off without another word, tail bushed up.

The four remaining cats stood in silence.

"Berrypaw…" The apprentice flinched and looked up at his mentor, feeling his belly drop to his paws at the sight of Slatefur's affronted expression. Whatever he was going to say, he bit it back as Mapleheart's tail came to rest on his shoulder. "Slatefur, take Leafpaw back to camp. We'll catch up."

As his two Clanmates padded away, Berrypaw stared firmly at his paws.

"Look at me, Berrypaw." Mapleheart sounded resigned.

The apprentice focused on his older sister's brown and white fur as he slowly looked up. Her pelt was almost exactly the same as his, although she was slightly darker. Their fur was where the similarities ended, however. Berrypaw's eyes were amber instead of green, and he, like most cats, was dwarfed by the huge she-cat. He still hoped against all hope that he would someday match her size.

"How do you feel about Meadowlark?"

"Meadowlark?" Berrypaw echoed, blinking in surprise. His mother and older sister had never had a very good relationship. As a kit, he hadn't paid it any attention. He reveled in being the favored kit and listened respectfully whenever Meadowlark had something to get off her chest about her wayward offspring. But things had escalated when Mapleheart became HollyClan's deputy. Berrypaw's mother loathed having to take orders from her own kit and took every opportunity to badmouth Mapleheart behind her back and undermine her authority. Despite their animosity toward each other, both cats had been careful not to confront Berrypaw about his feelings on the subject.

"I know she's your mother…" Mapleheart began, looking uncomfortable. " But you have to understand Berrypaw… She isn't… the best warrior."

"What do you mean?" Berrypaw asked, puzzled. He had expected to be scolded the same way as Meadowlark.

The big warrior sighed. "All I'm saying is… try not to put too much stock in whatever Meadowlark tells you. Focus on what Slatefur is trying to teach you."

"Yes Mapleheart..." Berrypaw mewed, unable to hide his bitterness.

Mapleheart's eyes narrowed, but she got to her paws and flicked his ear lightly with her tail. "Come on. Let's go hunting and make up for that rabbit."

The apprentice nodded and followed his sister as she loped off, leading him through the dirt pathways only known to HollyClan. Over time they slowed their pace, Berrypaw mirroring Mapleheart's movements as she started to stalk forward with her ears perked. Her whiskers twitched at the sight of a sparrow bashing a snail against a tree root.

"Go on." She mouthed to him.

Swallowing nervously, Berrypaw started creeping toward the bird. The breeze was directly behind him, blowing his scent directly at the feathery creature. Luckily, birds did not have a good sense of smell, and his presence was undetected until he gathered himself to pounce.

Chirping in alarm, the sparrow shot up. Berrypaw's claws brushed its tail feathers as it fluttered frantically up into the treetops. Burning with shame, he dropped back down and flattened his ears. Was he doomed to fail in front of every cat in the Clan?

"You almost had it Berrypaw." Mapleheart meowed, sitting up straight and giving her chest a few quick licks. "It heard your tail disturb the bracken when you were about to pounce. If you had been just a hair quicker, you would have had it anyway."

"Yeah, right. Like I barely miss everything." Berrypaw said scathingly.

"You haven't been trying, Berrypaw." Mapleheart's tone grew stern.

"What do you know?" Berrypaw snapped, hurt. He knew he had been trying his absolute hardest every day.

"Who do you think has to listen to Slatefur complain about his apprentice?" Mapleheart shot back in annoyance. As an awkward silence spread between them, she exhaled slowly and said in a gentler tone, "I know you've been doing your best, Berrypaw. But you aren't listening to your Clanmates. Your job as an apprentice is to learn everything you can to serve your Clan. You focus only on pushing yourself harder without stopping to listen to what Slatefur or the other apprentices are trying to teach you. That's not how a Clan works." When the apprentice did not respond right away, she said more forcefully, "You need to open your ears Berrypaw. If you can't do as I'm telling you, there's no way you'll ever be a warrior."

Berrypaw stared at her for a moment and then looked away into the forest. "So what am I doing wrong then?" He had to stop himself from adding _"wise one"_.

"You need to focus less on the prey and more on what you're doing." Mapleheart meowed, the tension leaving her shoulders. "You were so honed in on the bird that you didn't notice your tail twitching, or where your paws were."

Berrypaw nodded. He would pay more attention next time then, so Mapleheart would leave him alone. The rebellious part of him wanted to dig his paws in and do just the opposite, but he sensed that no matter what else he did, he would only hurt himself. There was just no point to it. He could not bear the thought of disappointing Mapleheart again. Every kit revered his leader and deputy, but for Berrypaw it was much more personal. Mapleheart was _kin_. Cats looked at her with respect and awe. How did they look at him? With disdain because he had not learned anything from his mentor? Pity because he had not caught anything? Annoyance because he was a burden to the Clan? For so long he had closed his ears to their disparaging comments… they hurt too much.

"Okay, try again. Can you smell anything?" Mapleheart lowered her voice, sniffing the air herself.

Berrypaw was silent for a long time, running the smell of the forest carefully over his scent glands and analyzing it thoroughly. Instead of his usual determination to make a catch, he felt only cold certainty. If he could not catch prey in front of Mapleheart today, he was doomed to be a hopeless apprentice forever. This was it.

Ears perked, he stalked away from his older sister, keeping his paws on firmer ground so he would not rustle dead leaves unintentionally. He had to travel several tree-lengths before he finally located prey, all other creatures having gone to ground at the sound of the two cats talking.

The chipmunk was stuffing its mouth full of dead leaves and grass, gathering what it wanted quickly and then darting up to its little knothole home up in an oak tree to place it before racing down to repeat the process. Berrypaw's eyes widened as he worked hard to sense everything around him. Each blade of grass, every twig, leaves, pebbles, even beetles, nothing escaped Berrypaw's attention.

Quiet as a snake, the young tom stalked forward, not daring to let excitement take over as he inched closer to his prey. He waited until the chipmunk had its back to him, taking a deep breath…. and then he pounced!

He missed by a whisker, landing just behind the furry creature. As the chipmunk panicked and bolted toward the tree, Berrypaw lashed out with one paw, catching it by surprise and flattening it. Before he could wiggle free of his grasp, the apprentice brought his full weight onto it and clumsily went for the kill bite, feeling the tiny rodent's bones crunch as he bit down on its neck.

The chipmunk went limp.

Berrypaw backed away panting, feeling his heart swell with triumph.

He had done it!


	6. StormClan: Mistypool

**StormClan: Mistypool**

"Leave me alone! I'll do what I want!"

Graynose woke with a start, ears swiveling toward the sound of two cats arguing just outside the Warriors' Den. A quick glance around revealed that he was alone in the den, the other inhabitants having left on various patrols earlier. The white warrior had been on a series of nighttime patrols after retrieving his prey. It had taken some time for him to go out and fetch it, and he had ended up waiting until some of the shock and worry of his Clanmates had died down. Gizmo's arrival had caused quite a stir.

"This isn't something you can blow off, Mistypool." The other voice sounded exasperated and angry. Graynose recognized the she-cat as Snowbriar, a tough warrior who rarely got upset over anything.

Concerned that something serious might be happening, Graynose jumped up and pushed his way out of the den. Snowbriar was facing off with Mistypool, a heavily pregnant silver queen. The she-cat's amber eyes were narrowed furiously as she hissed back at the warrior. "What do you know? You've never had kits!"

"Any fool can tell you that starving yourself is a mouse-brained thing to do!" Snowbriar shot back, her fluffy tail swishing back and forth. Her head snapped toward Graynose as he emerged from the den. "Graynose! You have to help me. Mistypool won't see sense. I'm afraid she'll hurt her kits."

"What's wrong, Mistypool?" Graynose blinked, confused. Mistypool was starving herself? It sounded absurd. The queen was a sharp, intelligent she-cat who knew a lot about raising kits.

"I just want to be left alone!" Mistypool meowed, panic flaring in her eyes.

Graynose scrutinized the she-cat carefully now, alarmed by her behavior. She _was _very skinny. Every cat had become rather thin over the course of Leafbare, but most cats had already begun to put on weight again with prey running more smoothly the past quarter moon. Mistypool's ribcage jutted out noticeably above her bulging belly.

"What's going on here?" Ivystar's smooth voice rang out from across camp. The three cats turned to see her padding up to them with Cinderfang right behind. The medicine cat's expression darkened when he saw Mistypool. He knew something was wrong. Why hadn't he said anything to Mistypool? Surely she would listen to him?

"N-nothing Ivystar." Mistypool wouldn't meet her leader's eyes, instead staring at the ground in front of her paws, ears flat.

"Nothing!" Snowbriar spat, the fur along her spine bristling. "Mistypool refuses to eat, and so close to her kitting!"

"Mistypool… you have to keep up your strength for your kits. We've discussed this." Cinderfang's tone was gentle, but serious. The silver she-cat crouched low to the ground, as though she wanted nothing more than to disappear. She said nothing, looking like a kit who knew she was doing something wrong but didn't want to admit it.

"We can't force you to eat…" Ivystar meowed, concerned. "But I would hope you would choose what's best for yourself and your kits."

"I'll try…" Mistypool murmured, still not looking up.

"See that you do." Ivystar meowed quietly. Graynose could tell by her tone that she was slightly frustrated by the other she-cat.

At that moment, a hunting patrol burst though the camp entrance, each cat laden with prey. Graynose was pleased to see the swirling tabby coat of his apprentice, Willowpaw, among the returning cats. Racing ahead of her to the fresh-kill pile to show off his catch was Eggpaw, a goofy white tom with ceaseless energy. Plodding behind the apprentices were Quailear and Sandfeather, each clearly resenting the enthusiasm of the younger cats. Particularly Eggpaw.

"As if on cue." Snowbriar meowed, blue eyes lighting up. "Eggpaw, c'mere!"

The fluffy apprentice's feet nearly skidded out from under him as he whirled around to see who had called his name. Realizing it was Snowbriar, his plume of a tail went straight up and he bounced over cheerfully. "Yffff?" He mumbled through his mouthful of mouse, eyes round and shining with all the blank eagerness of a puppy chasing its tail. Graynose stifled a purr of amusement and Ivystar hid a laughing twitch of her whiskers by stooping to lick her front paws.

"Mistypool would like that mouse you're carrying." Snowbriar said, nodding to the queen.

The apprentice nodded and happily deposited the fresh-kill at Mistypool's feet. "It's a nice fat one!" He boasted, positively beaming. "I'm the one who caught it."

"Er, that's great Eggpaw." Mistypool praised the white tom awkwardly, eyes darting from cat to cat as though trying to find a way out of this.

"Thank you, Eggpaw. You can go now." Cinderfang mewed hastily.

"It's a very nice mouse." Ivystar purred. "I'm sure Mistypool will love it." Although her tone was light, there was a command hidden in her statement, and Mistypool knew it.

As the apprentice walked away, Mistypool stood up and meowed, "I'm going to eat in my den." It was clear that the skinny she-cat simply wanted to leave, and quite possibly forget this entire conversation.

"It's a nice day. You should eat out here." Snowbriar growled, suspicion glittering in her eyes.

"Let her eat where she's comfortable. Redfern will make sure she doesn't go hungry." Ivystar said calmly, shooting a warning look at the warrior she-cat.

Snowbriar snorted and stalked off, tail flicking back and forth in irritation as she went.

Mistypool had already disappeared into the safety of the nursery when Graynose looked back. Cinderfang was shaking his head and sighing while Ivystar was staring after her with an unreadable expression.

"I don't know what else I can do for her." Cinderfang meowed wearily. "She just doesn't want to look after herself. Not even the threat of harm to her kits seems to matter to her."

"You've done what you can, Cinderfang." Ivystar sighed. "If Mistypool does not wish to care for herself, we can't make her."

Graynose stared silently at the bushes that concealed the nursery, full of worry. A queen who suddenly refused to eat after a harsh Leafbare? Was this an ill omen of some kind? If so, what could it possibly mean? Graynose was a warrior, not a medicine cat. He knew he was not meant to think too deeply on whether or not his ancestors were trying to communicate something, but he could not help but feel shaken. Never in his life had he heard of a cat who simply began to starve themselves to death. Especially queens.

"Graynose, you may go out hunting again today. Silverbranch has already picked out cats for border patrols." Ivystar said to the white warrior, catching him by surprise. He hadn't expected her to move from a topic so serious to something mundane like hunting. But her motives became clear quickly enough. "Take Snowbriar with you. A good jog outside of camp will clear her mind. It's not good for Clanmates to be angry at one another, and it does Mistypool no good if Snowbriar keeps trying to force her to eat."

"She means well…" Graynose said, glancing across camp to where the gray she-cat was washing her tail roughly, still obviously not appeased by Mistypool's promise to eat.

"That she-cat needs kits of her own." Cinderfang grumbled.

"You know she's too stubborn for that." Ivystar's whiskers twitched. "Why, she told me herself she was too old now to consider having kits. She's younger than I am."

"She would make a good mother." Cinderfang sighed. "Or a really protective mother."

"We need more mothers." Ivystar murmured sadly, her gaze sweeping across StormClan's camp. The stony encampment was utterly devoid of the mewls and squeaks of kits. It had been thus ever since Eggpaw and Pinepaw became apprentices, and somehow the camp felt less cheerful without tiny furballs running around. At least Eggpaw would still cause a ruckus whenever he got the chance.

"Kits are on the way." Graynose said firmly, unable to bear the sight of the two most respected members of his Clan so morose. "And I'm sure once Greenleaf arrives there will be more than just Mistypool and Redfern in the nursery."

"StarClan willing." Ivystar said, blinking at the warrior.

Cinderfang arched his back in a huge stretch before flicking his tail in farewell. "I'm off to see if any herbs are poking up. I'll be needing to find some raspberry leaves to help our future Clanmates into the world."

Graynose dipped his head to Ivystar. "I'm off to hunt then." Seeing her nod in return, he bounded across camp to speak with Snowbriar.

"Hunting?" The she-cat was caught off-guard by the offer.

"Yes. Mistypool will have no excuse not to eat if we can bulk up the fresh-kill pile some more." Graynose meowed coaxingly, although he wondered at the wisdom of bringing up the queen's condition.

"Well… alright I suppose." Snowbriar got to her paws. Graynose could tell she wasn't convinced that hunting would help anything, but at least she was willing to get out of camp.

She took the lead as they made their way outside, pausing outside the entrance and glancing back at Graynose. "Do we want to go uphill or downhill?"

"Downhill." Graynose answered, taking an appreciative breath of the fresh Newleaf air. "I went hunting near the top yesterday."

Snowbriar nodded, and the two cats bounded off down the slope.

Graynose reveled in the feeling of the wind rushing through his whiskers. StormClan territory flew by underpaw as the two warriors raced toward the border, paws churning and breath coming out in quick huffs as they ran. There was nothing like a good jog to make you forget your worries.

They came to a halt when the land started to become lusher. Near the RavenClan border, and for many tree-lengths in, the earth was covered in plants. Very few trees, but plenty of grasses and other low-growing vegetation. Not only did this serve the Clan's medicine cat, but it was an excellent place to hunt dormice and other small rodents. Graynose had not yet visited since before the first snows.

It did not take long for the white warrior to find what he was looking for. A short, quick pounce and he had a little brown mouse to take back to camp. "Still scrawny, but a blessing after seeing so few this Leafbare." He told Snowbriar as he flattened some grass stalks over the kill to hide it.

"Graynose, may I ask you something?" Snowbriar asked, blue eyes somber.

Graynose sighed. He sensed she wanted to talk about Mistypool. "Go on."

"Why do you think Mistypool isn't eating?" Looking at the she-cat's face, he could see the shadow of sadness in her expression.

"I don't know." Graynose admitted. "I can't see any reason any cat would stop eating, other than famine." He had not even noticed Mistypool's odd behavior until he had stumbled upon her and Snowbriar's argument. From the lack of gossip floating around camp, he assumed he was not the only one who had not noticed anything unusual.

Snowbriar was silent for a moment, gaze fixed on the ground. Then she said, "If I tell you something, will you keep it quiet and not tell anyone else?"

Curious, Graynose didn't even think before responding. "Of course. What is it?"

"I.." Snowbriar hesitated, then seemed to brace herself and continued in a rush. "I don't think Mistypool has a mate within the Clan."

"What?" Graynose stared at her, utterly bewildered. Such a thing was completely beyond his comprehension.

"Think about it." Snowbriar urged, tail flicking restlessly. "No tom has come to see her. I have never seen her even _look_ at a tom. No cat has been looking after her. I think… I think she hasn't been eating because she has a broken heart."

"What about Falconclaw or Darkthorn?" Graynose asked, unwilling to believe that any StormClan cat would break the Warrior Code. To him, there was not enough evidence to support such a claim. StormClan was a very traditional Clan. It was not uncommon for two cats who did not have any feelings for each other at all to become mates for a short while to produce offspring for the good of the Clan. Two cats in such a pairing would remain distant from each other after kits were produced, the male rarely making himself known as the father.

"Falconclaw hasn't so much as looked at Mistypool. He's got his eye on Sandfeather." Snowbrair meowed, shaking her head. "And Darkthorn loves himself too much to waste time with a mate." She heaved a sigh, ears drooping slightly. "I guess I just wanted to see if any cat shared my thoughts. Maybe I'm just over-thinking things."

"I don't think you mean any harm, Snowbriar." Graynose said, choosing his words carefully. "But I think it's best if you put this out of your mind for now. If it is true, Mistypool wouldn't want any cat to know her secret. If it isn't, you don't want the Clan to think you're a rumormonger trying to… to…"

"Think I'm trying to make my Clanmates look bad." Snowbriar finished, looking downcast.

"Right." Graynose nodded sympathetically.

"Well… thank you for your advice, Graynose." Snowbriar meowed, turning away. "I know I can trust you not to say anything to anyone."

"You can trust me." The warrior tom agreed heavily. He could not help but wish he had not been the one to hear her suspicions. How could he look at Mistypool now?


	7. RavenClan: Memories

**RavenClan: Memories**

"Come back here you little rogue!" Yewstar barely had enough time to lift her head from her nest before a small brown bundle of fur hurtled through the air and landed on top of her. The RavenClan leader sat up straight in alarm, but relaxed when she recognized the joyful squeaks of a kit.

"Yewstar, I'm sorry!" The mortified face of Leopardpaw, a lanky brown-spotted apprentice, peered in at her from the entrance to her tree-root den. "I couldn't keep her out." Beside him sat two other kits, their huge eyes blinking owlishly at Yewstar as she got to her paws and sent the first kit tumbling off her back and into her nest.

"Breezekit." She meowed sternly, looking into the three-moon-old's bright yellow eyes.

The young tom gave a wiggle before flipping over on to his belly and scampering out of Yewstar's den. "Sorry!" He mewed, not looking in the slightest bit apologetic. His sisters tumbled over each other in their hurry to follow him.

"I won't let them disturb you again, Yewstar. I promise." Leopardpaw vowed, tailing the kits with a determined expression. Yewstar stared groggily after him, still not completely awake.

The RavenClan leader started washing her paws, taking the time to groom while she came to grips with the world. She was not normally so dopey when she woke up, but she had the lingering impression that she had dreamed. Possibly something important… She toyed with the faint memory, trying to coax it to the forefront of her mind, but eventually gave up, knowing it was hopeless. She would remember when it was important, if it was. She always did.

Giving one last yawn, Yewstar dug her claws into the earth and arched her back in a stretch, her tail arching behind her and her legs trembling with the effort. Slightly more awake afterward, she gave herself a final shake and stepped out into the cool spring light, blinking rapidly as her eyes adjusted.

RavenClan's camp was a rather open area. From the mouth of her den, Yewstar could see straight out the camp entrance, which was set between two large honeysuckle bushes. It wasn't much of a rise, but it was enough to offer a decent view of RavenClan's open, marshy territory. Each day Yewstar looked out, things were a little greener than the day before. And wetter. The dry, frigid days were almost behind them.

"Good morning, Yewstar." An ancient white she-cat shuffled stiffly over to the RavenClan leader, bright golden eyes sparkling despite the obvious discomfort movement caused her. "Quite a fine day, isn't it?"

"Yes, Tinybird. Very pleasant after last moon's snows." Yewstar meowed appreciatively, breathing in deeply the scent of growing things.

"Shame it won't last." The elder gave a hoot of laughter. "But it's a sign that Newleaf is around the corner."

"Are you here to hog all the sunlight in front of my den again?" The younger she-cat teased.

"You got it! The sun lingers here quite nicely." Tinybird sank gratefully down onto the sun-warmed earth. "Just kick me out of the way when you want back in."

Pressed close to the ground as she was, Tinybird took up a very miniscule amount of space. Yewstar knew from experience how easy it was to tiptoe over the old cat without disturbing her. She had always been a small she-cat, but one had to admire her spunk. While her reflexes dulled and her senses failed, Tinybird's wit was still as sharp as ever and her spirit just as bright.

"I think I'll go for a hunt." Yewstar meowed to Tinybird, but the elder was already fast asleep, head resting comfortably on her paws. Purring softly to herself, the golden she-cat trotted off toward the camp entrance.

"Yewstar!" She paused, wondering who could be vying for her attention this time.

A fluffy golden-brown she-cat was bustling toward her, fuzzy tail held high. It was Featherfur, one of the most unique-looking cats in RavenClan. White most Clan cats sported rather narrow faces with average-sized muzzles, Featherfur's face was flattened oddly, like she had run headfirst into a tree as a kit. This was a result of her kittypet father, which was not all that uncommon in RavenClan.

"Yewstar, I just wanted to say that I'm pleased you've decided to stop taking nonsense from those StormClan cats. I strongly believe that this will boost the morale of the Clan and make those mange-pelts stop harassing our patrols." Featherfur stated formally.

"I'm glad you approve." Yewstar said dryly. Although they were cousins, and Yewstar cared for her as kin, sometimes she found conversation with the she-cat quite dull. Featherfur was a very critical cat, and her opinion did mean a lot to the golden tabby, but oftentimes politics and Clan news were the only things Featherfur wanted to talk about. These things were important to Yewstar as well, however, the leader found that it was easier to keep a clear head when one did not dwell on such serious matters every waking moment of the day.

"Do you think there will be another war?" A dark gray tabby tom named Sootstripe pushed his way out of the warriors' den, eyes round.

Yewstar hesitated. She did not want to worry her Clan unnecessarily. "It's too early to say. I believe if we show our power they won't want to mess with us anymore." If there was to be a war, of course she would tell her Clanmates. But right now all Clans seemed to be avoiding confrontation, and with the weather finally taking a turn for the better, she wanted a moon or two to relax and think only about fattening her Clan up for next Leafbare.

"We're ready for them if there is." Featherfur meowed determinedly.

"Ready for what?" The three cats were approached by a patrol of warriors returning from checking the borders. At the head of the patrol was Sagefrost, a light brown tom with a bushy tail. Following him into camp were Liontail, a pale orange tabby, Firesplash, his fiery ginger sister, and Robinpaw, a spunky orange and white she-cat. It was Liontail who spoke, flouncing over to head-butt Sootstripe playfully on the shoulder. The two toms were close friends, despite obvious differences in temperament.

"War with StormClan." The smoky-colored warrior answered nervously.

"Of course we are!" Robinpaw blurted out.

"Yeah! We've _been_ ready." Firesplash agreed, eyes glowing.

"But why would we fight?" Sagefrost tipped his head. "All they've done is taunt us."

"That's enough!" Firesplash growled, tail lashing back and forth. "You may be content to let them snap at you, but sooner or later I'm going to kick their teeth in for them!"

"And that would start a war." Liontail said, nodding wisely.

With her Clanmates distracted and discussing war with StormClan, Yewstar quietly backed away and slipped out the camp entrance unnoticed. Breathing a sigh of relief, she set off along the small stream that ran past RavenClan's camp, following the water as it rippled across her territory in a zigzagging pattern with a general course toward the HollyClan border. It had been a long time since she had had a chance to simply observe how things were on RavenClan land without a patrol of other cats accompanying her. Of course, the sense of kinship with her Clanmates was invaluable to Yewstar, especially in the harshest of times. But now that things were going better for her Clan, she was content to take a little time for her own quiet meditation.

RavenClan had been fortunate enough to escape the cruel claws of Leafbare with one fatality, a wily tom named Foxear who died at the beginning of the season. His death was tragic, and it devastated Tinybird, who was his mother, yet it was a simple case of cold-cough, which was not contagious. Many of the Clan believed that the tom could have lived had their medicine cat, Cloudstrike, been a better healer. While Cloudstrike's reputation was against him, Yewstar was certain he had tried his best and tried to ease the pain of the Clan herself. Nothing any cat said could fill the void where a proud warrior once stood, however. She sensed many still did not trust the white medicine cat completely.

A melancholy feeling swept through the golden she-cat as she continued to remember her past, especially when she came to a memory involving a cat she had cared for who was no longer present. Her sister, her father, her mother, her mentor, even one of her apprentices had joined StarClan. Each time Yewstar was forced to bear the weight of loss, and each time it became heavier until she became numb to the pain. It was a Clan cat's life to see cats come and go, but each pawstep of the way she had friends to support her and confide in. While it was sad, she was not the kind of cat to allow herself to be pinned down by grief and sorrow.

Shaking her head to clear it, the she-cat focused her thoughts firmly on finding prey for her Clan. While strolling and reminiscing was nice, it filled no bellies.

Yewstar was surprised to find that her paws had taken her away from the stream and brought her closer to the StormClan border, seemingly of their own accord. The scent of heather and sweet grass met her nose, bringing back memories of her apprenticeship. Her heart swelled with kittenish excitement as she remembered racing through the tall grass with her friends, play-fighting and generally showing off as apprentices do.

Energetically, Yewstar bounded across the field, not bothering to keep her presence unnoticed until she came within a tree-length of a big boulder. Seeing the landmark, she stopped short and dropped down into a hunting crouch. The she-cat's golden tabby pelt made her virtually invisible against the brownish dead grass left behind by Leafbare's cold breath. Still, she made sure that she didn't disturb a single stalk as she sneaked forward, putting one paw slowly in front of the other.

The rock was a well-known spot for hunting. Prey knew it was dangerous too, but they were drawn back without fail by the two big blackberry bushes that grew on either side of the big stone. Even when they were not producing fruit, there was almost always a mouse nest or rabbit burrow nearby.

Yewstar shot forward at the sight of a little gray body rummaging around in the grass, breaking the mouse's spine before it could so much as utter a squeak. Pleased by her easy catch, the she-cat snatched it up by the tail and leaped up onto the rock, dropping her prey almost instantly to roll onto her back, purring as sunlight warmed her belly fur.

"Having fun?"

Startled, Yewstar was on her paws in an instant, yellow eyes wide and body growing still as her ears swiveled every which way in an effort to pinpoint the cat who spoke to her. She curled her lip as the sharp scent of StormClan wafted toward her, alerting her to the allegiance of the intruder. However, there was a familiar smell underneath the StormClan stench…

"Oh, it's you, Cinderfang." Yewstar let out a sigh of relief, sitting back down and gazing down at the gray tom. He had been partially hidden by one of the blackberry bushes and the shade of the rock she was sitting on. A bundle of leaves was at his paws, along with a little pile of freshly-picked leaves.

"Luckily for you." The StormClan cat's tail twitched.

"And you." Yewstar grumbled, embarrassed at being caught off-guard. "I would have shredded you by know had I not recognized you."

Cinderfang blinked in surprise before giving a rusty purr and chuckling, "My, my, we haven't much since our apprentice days, now have we?"

Knowing exactly what he was referencing, Yewstar growled good-naturedly and said in mock defensiveness, "I would have shredded you then too if that badger hadn't been there! I just decided to let it do my job for me."

"I see." Cinderfang's whiskers twitched. With one quick leap he was beside the golden she-cat. They sat in a companionable silence, enjoying the warm breeze and tranquil sunlight.

"Prey running smoothly in StormClan?" Yewstar asked, her gaze not leaving the mountain terrain in front of her.

"Much better than before." Cinderfang meowed. He indicated the herbs he was gathering with his tail. "But we're short on kittens. I came here to collect raspberry leaves to aid Redfern and Mistypool in their kitting."

"So it will be soon?" The RavenClan leader felt a wave of relief. Maybe with two litters of kits StormClan would become less aggressive toward their neighboring Clans.

"Soon enough." A grim note entered the medicine cat's tone.

"You don't sound too happy about it." Yewstar observed.

"It's Mistypool…" Cinderfang sighed, a troubled look flickering across his face. "She's stopped eating. Won't even look at a mouse. Her kitting can't be more than a half moon away and…. I don't know what I can do for her."

"You can't make a queen do anything she doesn't want to do." The golden she-cat said sympathetically. "StarClan willing, she will see sense and eat before it's time for her kits to arrive. A mother's instinct is always to defend her offspring."

"I hope so." Cinderfang shook his head slowly from side to side. Yewstar's heart ached for him. She knew it must be hard to have the life of a Clanmate hanging in the balance and being able to do nothing to help her. It was a good thing none of RavenClan's queens had opted not to eat right before kitting. Of course, RavenClan only had one queen and one litter at the moment. But the furballs were as energetic and raucous as jackdaws, and Moonwing was a good mother.

"How is prey running in RavenClan?" Cinderfang asked briskly, seeming keen to change the subject.

"Nothing much to say there." Yewstar said happily, thinking back to earlier, when she had woken to a bustling camp full of content, if a little battle-hungry, warriors. "Breezekit woke me up this morning. I swear, that little tom is either the bravest kit or the most foolish cat I've seen in some moons. I certainly wouldn't have tried getting into Cinderstar's den as a kit."

"Perhaps your Clan feels that you are more approachable than Cinderstar was." Cinderfang suggested, eyes fixed on Yewstar.

The she-cat shrugged, not meeting his gaze. "That could be. She was always more intimidating…. at least, in my memory." Cinderstar had been a spunky gray she-cat with a ferocious and unpredictable temper. Her shifting moods were sometimes very dangerous, but she hardly ever turned her rage onto her Clanmates. While Yewstar had been in awe of her as a kitten, the intimidation factor lessened considerably when she actually spent time with the old ruler as a young warrior. She had been a great leader, and Yewstar wondered if she would ever be able to match her own predecessor's nobility and courage.

"It's hard letting go of the past…" Cinderfang murmured, seeing the faraway look in Yewstar's expression. "We all still feel like kits, and we want our mothers and mentors to guide us."

The golden leader cast a sly glance at Cinderfang. "You want your mother?"

The older cat stiffened and then raised his eyes to the sky as though asking StarClan for patience. "Try to have a serious conversation with a RavenClan cat, and look what happens. You can't go five seconds without tweaking someone's whiskers, can you?" Although his tone was gruff and annoyed, Yewstar knew him well enough to detect the amusement hidden behind his stern words.

"Part of the job." She licked a paw and drew it carefully over one ear. "Besides, I rather like to think I learned it from you."

Cinderfang shook his head. "No, you were born a cheeky little thing." Yewstar knew she was not imagining the warmth in his mew, and it made her both happy and apprehensive at the same time.

She got to her paws and stretched luxuriously before addressing the gray tom. "It was nice talking to you, as always, Cinderfang. But I believe we both have duties to attend to."

"Of course." He dipped his head graciously. "Thank you again for allowing me to harvest herbs on your land. It means a lot to my Clan."

Yewstar gazed at him for a long moment, eyes serious. "I would do this for no cat but you." So saying, she scooped up her mouse by the tail and hopped down from the boulder, pausing to add, "Just don't get caught!"


	8. HollyClan: StormClan Intruders!

**HollyClan: StormClan Intruders! **

Fresh forest scents filled Berrypaw's nostrils as he padded behind a border patrol. Bright amber eyes taking in everything, the young tom felt alive. This was the first official patrol he had ever been on, and he was very much determined not to allow any rival cats slip past without his notice. He could sense the warriors' amusement at his seriousness, but he could also detect that Slatefur was pleased with his efforts, however kittenish the others considered them.

"Save your energy for the border!" Mistthorn called to him as he paused to thoroughly examine a pawprint in the mud. He only moved to rejoin the patrol when he was satisfied that it was a HollyClan print.

"Leave him be." Nightfang, a big black warrior, meowed, golden eyes glittering with laughter. "Apprentices always have energy to spare."

"Some more than others." Slatefur grumbled, casting a long-suffering glance back at the warrior tom. Mistthorn purred in amusement while Berrypaw looked at Nightfang with wide eyes. It was hard to imagine the hulking warrior as an enthusiastic apprentice. He wondered if he had been anything like Stormpaw, who was also a black tom, but dismissed the idea. He knew how cunning Stormpaw could be, and Nightfang didn't have the wit to match.

"Ever seen a StormClan cat, Berrypaw?" Mistthorn glanced over her shoulder at the younger cat. Mistthorn was a very pretty she-cat, and one of the most unusual-looking in HollyClan. Her tortoiseshell fur was oddly faded. Instead of the usual black, orange, and brown mottled fur, she was gray with pale orange dapples and snowy white paws. While most cats had grown to resent Berrypaw as a result of his escapades as a kitten, Mistthorn was always friendly toward him, although sometimes Berrypaw felt embarrassed to be around her.

"Not yet." Berrypaw answered, unable to keep the eagerness out of his voice. He had yet to see any cat from another Clan, or even a stray rogue or kittypet on the outside border.

"You might today." Slatefur meowed. "They've been patrolling their borders more zealously since the beginning of Leafbare." A warning note crept into his voice. "And if we do happen to run into them, you keep your mouth shut and let me do the talking. One wrong word could cause a war."

"They're just looking for an excuse to start one." Nightfang growled, flexing his claws. "Ever since we took back that tree-length of territory past the waterfalls."

"Territory that's never belonged to them." Mistthorn sniffed. Her tail flicked back and forth in irritation at the thought. "They couldn't even hunt there if they wanted to."

In the season before Berrypaw was apprenticed, StormClan had taken some of HollyClan's forested territory. It was heavily disputed land, and to whom it originally belonged had become a subject of much debate throughout all Clans, but HollyClan had held the stretch of territory for a full season-cycle without being challenged. The markings were moved without warning, and at a point when HollyClan was already having trouble with a group of bloodthirsty rogues. Howlingstar had opted to ignore the loss for a half moon while his Clan ousted the outsiders first, taking care of his Clan's problems one at a time. When the time came to reclaim the land, the battle was swift and decisive. It became clear that StormClan did not have the numbers to counter HollyClan, and they were unceremoniously defeated. With the Clan even stronger than before, no cat in Berrypaw's Clan was concerned about StormClan's continued threats to reclaim it.

Berrypaw listened to the warriors talk idly, turning his attention back to the forest around him. The undergrowth was less thick near the StormClan border, and the apprentice was amazed by how far he could see without climbing a tree. He had grown used to the brightness of the sky above without leaves to blot it out, but the sight of the open land ahead came as a complete surprise. There was just…. nothing. He saw row upon row of trees, and then a huge, open field.

He was so focused on the scenery that he slammed right into Nightfang when the tom abruptly stopped to taste the air. A snarl escaped the bigger cat and Berrypaw quickly scampered back as he whipped around angrily. "Watch it!"

"What do you smell?" Slatefur asked, ears perked curiously as he looked back at his former apprentice.

"I thought…" Nightfang tasted the air again. Mistthorn followed his example, and Berrypaw hurried to copy the older warriors, wondering what exactly he was looking for. A cat scent met his nose, but it was very unlike the loamy, warm scent of his Clanmates. It smelled of grass, stone, and wind, quite a strange combination to the young cat's inexperienced nose.

"StormClan. And strong. There's a patrol nearby." Nightfang growled, eyes flashing furiously.

"Calm, Nightfang. We don't know that they're on our land." Slatefur meowed reasonably. He lowered his voice and dropped down into a half-crouch. "Now if you'll stop standing around like a bunch of clueless pigeons, we can sneak up on them if they are."

"They are, Slatefur, look!" Mistthorn whispered urgently.

All four cats peered through the undergrowth, astonished to see three white-furred cats tearing through the forest after a squirrel. From the look of it, they had not even hesitated at the border. They pelted after their quarry recklessly, passing by the HollyClan patrol by a mere fox-length without even noticing the hidden cats. Berrypaw's whiskers twitched in satisfaction as the furry creature shot up a tree, leaving the three rival cats behind.

"Fox-dung!" Spat the head of the patrol as the squirrel chattered angrily at him from high above his head. Now that the cats were closer, Berrypaw could see that he had an orange-colored tail, legs, and face. He had never seen a cat like that. As a matter of fact, he had never seen so many pale-colored cats in one place. No wonder the squirrel had seen them coming!

"I'm not certain that's the best way to catch squirrels, Flynose." One of the other white cats, an apprentice-aged tom, sounded both apologetic and reproachful at the same time.

"Well maybe you can show us all how it's done when we find another." The warrior said through gritted teeth, clearly annoyed by the younger cat's observation.

"But you haven't showed me the right way to do it yet." The apprentice sounded surprised that he would suggest such a thing. Berrypaw cringed. This StormClan apprentice must have been dropped on his head as a kit. He would have turned tail and run if Slatefur ever looked at him with half the murderous intent he saw in Flynose's eyes.

"Shut your mouth Eggpaw!" The other white cat, who looked a lot like the first, rounded on him aggressively.

"What?" The tom, Eggpaw, was completely bewildered. Berrypaw groaned inwardly.

"We're on enemy territory. Stop wasting time." The she-cat snarled and hurried back in the direction of the border.

"You should be more like your sister, Eggpaw." Flynose said scathingly, padding after the female apprentice. Unabashed, Eggpaw followed him, tail held up high and gait almost jovial.

Slatefur raised his head slightly, then flicked his tail in the signal to follow the intruders. All four cats stalked forward, keeping their bodies as low to the ground as possible with so little vegetation to conceal them. Berrypaw kept behind the others, concentrating on moving silently, even if it meant he fell behind. He did not want to be the one to alert the enemy cats to their presence.

The StormClan cats were content to simply go back to their own territory, which made Berrypaw wonder if they were going to confront them or not. Trespassing was trespassing, even if it was only for a little bit. Any prey on HollyClan land belonged to HollyClan, regardless of where it came from before arriving on their land.

Eggpaw lagged behind his companions as they made swiftly for the border. He looked interested in his surroundings, his eyes wide and ears flicking curiously. Berrypaw would have felt the same way if he had gotten the chance to explore another Clan's territory, even for a moment. _It must feel weird to him._ Berrypaw thought to himself. _I bet he's never been under so many trees. _

Suddenly the white tom stiffened, ears forward and tail tip flicking excitedly. He stood stock still for a moment, eyes fixed on something moving in the bracken. He pounced with surprising speed, coming up with the wiggling body of a mouse in his jaws. He tossed it up deftly and caught it again, this time cracking its spine beneath his teeth. Looking pleased, he hurried after his Clanmates. But Slatefur didn't intend to let him get that far.

"No you don't!" He hissed as he tackled the intruder to the ground, pinning him easily and causing him to drop his catch in the dirt. Eggpaw's screech of alarm brought Flynose and the other apprentice racing back, in addition to a dark gray warrior that Berrypaw hadn't seen before.

"Let him go!" Flynose snarled, arching his back threateningly.

"He's trespassing and stealing prey." Nightfang didn't have to puff out his fur to look intimidating. All he had to do was stand up straight and bare his fangs. "Come to think of it, you're _all_ trespassing."

"Nice catch, by the way." Mistthorn jeered at Flynose.

"That squirrel was StormClan prey!" The StormClan tom seethed.

"It belonged to HollyClan the moment it ran across our scent-markers." Slatefur growled, keeping his paw firmly pressed on the back of Eggpaw's neck so that he couldn't get up. "So does the mouse."

"But I caught it." Eggpaw said forlornly.

"You should have left with your Clanmates." Nightfang snarled. "Then you wouldn't be in this mess."

"We did not mean to cross your border." The dark gray tom meowed. Out of all the cats in his patrol, he was the most composed. "It was an accident."

"While I'm impressed with your willingness to smooth out the situation, an accident is one cat. And an _accident_ doesn't extend to five tree-lengths into our territory." Slatefur said drolly. He let the apprentice up and stood next to Nightfang, lip curled slightly. "Now get to your own side of the border."

"We don't listen to you, dirt-face!" The white she-cat hissed, her tail weaving back and forth like a snake and her ears pinned flat to her head.

"Pinepaw…" The gray cat said warningly.

"Don't talk to him like that." Berrypaw was startled to feel a rush of aggravation to hear Pinepaw tossing insults at his mentor. He stepped up so that he was nose to nose with the hostile she-cat. To his dismay, he found that she was bigger than he was, but did not allow his courage to falter at this realization.

"Or what?" Pinepaw's holly green eyes narrowed menacingly. She was obviously not afraid of the HollyClan apprentice.

"I'll teach you a lesson." Berrypaw growled, pleased that his voice didn't tremor. He had never been in a fight before. His heart was racing in his chest, and he felt the fur along his spine spiking up, although from fear or anger he could not tell.

"It's not worth the effort, Berrypaw." Mistthorn murmured in his ear, glaring at the StormClan she-cat. "They know they're in the wrong."

"We don't want your stupid mouse anyway." Flynose sniffed. "The reek of HollyClan would make our queens ill."

"Good. Then go." Slatefur said impatiently.

"Mouse-hearts." Pinepaw muttered, turning away.

Her dismissal and disrespect rankled Berrypaw. How dare they? They were in the wrong, and yet they absolutely refused to admit it. Rage filled his vision, and before he knew what he was doing, he had launched himself at the she-cat. Hissing, he dug his claws into her shoulders in an attempt to knock her off her paws.

It took Pinepaw less than three seconds to throw him off her back and gouge his cheek with her claws. Her speed and ferocity came as a complete surprise to Berrypaw, causing him to back up quickly. Swift as an adder, she darted to one side and kicked his feet out from under him. Berrypaw hit the ground with a startled cry, only to have the wind knocked out of his lungs as Pinepaw pounced on him. Her fangs gleamed wetly as she went in to deliver a brutal bite to his shoulder. Berrypaw yowled in terror and squirmed underneath her, but could not break free.

Pinepaw's weight vanished as Slatefur came to his rescue. The old gray cat showed no mercy as he scored her flanks with his claws again and again, her screams of agony and fury echoed through the forest. Panting, Berrypaw scrambled to his paws and watched the two cats tussle. Despite his experience and strength, Slatefur took his share of blows from the fearless StormClan she-cat.

"Pinepaw!" Eggpaw let out a yowl of alarm as he jumped forward to help her. He was intercepted by Nightfang, who was subsequently floored by Flynose. Eggpaw slipped out of danger, staggering dazedly a few tail-lengths away before coming face-to-face with Mistthorn. With a yelp of terror, he spun around and took off toward his Clan's territory.

The gray StormClan cat advanced on Mistthorn, spine arched and tail lashing back and forth. Wanting to do something, Berrypaw stood at Mistthorn's side and hissed warningly at the bigger cat. He may not be able to fight on his own, but teaming up with Mistthorn was certain victory.

"Darkthorn!" Flynose yowled. The tom had escaped Nightfang's claws and was calling a retreat. He looked furious.

Darkthorn's eyes narrowed. He seemed to be entertaining the thought of attacking anyway, but a second call from Flynose spurred him into action. With a snarl, he turned and loped after his Clanmates.

Looking around, Berrypaw realized that Pinepaw had disappeared, presumably following her brother across the border. Slatefur was gazing after their rivals, his ears flat and sides heaving. Nightfang and Mistthorn hared after them, clearly ready for more if the StormClan cats should hesitate to return to their side of the scent-lines.

Head spinning, Berrypaw sat down with a thump. His blood was still pumping, and his breathing had not yet gone back to normal. It took him a moment to realize that his paws were trembling uncontrollably, and his cheek stung like fire, along with the scratches along his side. Despite his loss, Berrypaw did not feel disappointed in himself. He felt _alive_. He felt like a true Clan cat.

He looked up to see that Slatefur was staring at him. The old tom's expression was unreadable. Berrypaw's heart sank. Suddenly he remembered that it was he who started this whole little scuffle. Every cat was told from a young age not to allow their rivals' taunts to drive them to physical violence. Attacking other cats' patrols is what led to war and endangered the whole Clan. And yet all those lectures from his early apprenticeship had been forgotten in the face of Pinepaw's insolence. How was he supposed to keep his cool when some prissy little StormClan cat was shooting insults at his Clanmates?

Both toms looked up as Mistthorn galloped back to them, skidding to a halt in front of Slatefur. "They're gone." She reported, eyes shining. "Nice fight, Berrypaw. I needed something to get my blood pumping this morning."

A disapproving light appeared in Slatefur's eyes, but he simply nodded in acknowledgement.

"Nightfang continued along the border." Mistthorn added. "I don't know if you want to finish the patrol, or if you want to return to camp and report this to Howlingstar."

"I'm going to head back and make the report." Slatefur decided. "You three mark the borders." He paused, looking at his apprentice with the same unreadable expression as before. "And Berrypaw… try not to start any more fights."

…

The rest of the patrol was uneventful. While the scent of StormClan was powerful, there were no more patrols nearby. Still, all three cats were tense and alert after their earlier scrap. Mistthorn had escaped unharmed, but Nightfang bore some shallow scratches from Flynose's claws. He held his head high to show off a nick on his ear, although why a warrior would celebrate having his ears marred was beyond Berrypaw. He was thankful that Pinepaw hadn't left him with any permanent marks, although Nightfang told him that if he was lucky the scratch on his cheek would become a cool scar.

"It intimidates your enemies." The black cat had told him in a very self-satisfied manner.

Mistthorn had rolled her eyes, completely unimpressed. "The only thing it tells your enemies is you're too stupid to dodge attacks. Don't listen to that meathead, Berrypaw."

Despite the praise he received from the two warriors, Berrypaw spent the whole patrol worrying about what Slatefur was going to say to him once he got back to camp. One thing he knew about his mentor was that he did not like to scold his apprentices in front of other cats. He typically waited until they were alone, or called him away to talk if he had something to say. As much as he appreciated not being humiliated in front of his Clanmates, being called over by Slatefur with that grim expression on his face was always unpleasant.

As they padded into camp Berrypaw was immediately assaulted with licks by his mother. "Oh, my poor kit!" Meadowlark exclaimed, sniffing his cheek where he had been scratched. "You might be scarred for life! Quick, let's go see Mudtail. He'll fix it up."

"Let the cat have some fun. Scars are all part of growing up." Nightfang tried to intervene.

"He's too lovely for scars." Meadowlark huffed, fixing the warrior in a green glare.

"They're a little unavoidable for a Clan cat… at least, any Clan cat who _does_ anything." An edge crept into Mistthorn's voice. She stared hard at Berrypaw's mother.

Ignoring the other she-cat, Meadowlark rested her tail on her son's shoulder and guided him to the medicine den, which was through a tunnel of bracken and located under a tall pine tree. Blackpaw, the medicine cat apprentice, greeted them with a soft meow and gave Berrypaw a quick examination before padding over to the stump where all the herbs were stored.

"Where's Mudtail?" Meadowlark demanded, trailing after the she-cat.

"Out gathering herbs." Blackpaw said quietly, blinking shockingly blue eyes at Meadowlark.

"I want Mudtail to look at his wounds. Not his apprentice." Meadowlark said rudely.

"Mother, they're just scratches…" Berrypaw meowed tiredly.

"I want to make sure they won't scar!" Meadowlark meowed, a whine creeping into her voice. "It'll make you look funny if it does."

"It won't make him look funny, you twit." All three cats looked up at the arrival of Slatefur. The old tom was looking disdainfully at Meadowlark, who was looking disdainfully back. "He'll just look like any cat with a scar. He has not been maimed. He can still walk, has both ears and a tail. Blackpaw is more than capable of treating a small cut like that. You should be proud that your son's been in his first fight."

"Of course I'm proud, but I'm his mother. I'll do what's best for him." Meadowlark growled, ears angling backward.

"He's not a kit anymore." Slatefur rumbled, eyes narrowing and spine stiffening. Berrypaw wearily padded over to sit next to Blackpaw, who was watching with keen interest. Why did his mother have to make a fool of herself every time she spoke to him? Sure, his cheek hurt, but it wasn't life-threatening. Even _he_ could see that. Surely Meadowlark could, too?

"He'll always be my kit." Meadowlark declared, lifting her chin defiantly.

Slatefur snorted incredulously, opened his mouth to say something, and closed it again, shaking his head. "You're hopeless."

"What was that?" Meadowlark raised her voice angrily, as though she thought going up an octave would make Slatefur take back what he said.

"I need to speak with Berrypaw. Alone." Slatefur growled. When Meadowlark didn't move, he added, "Or I can take this up with our deputy. I'm sure she would find it interesting that a mother would try and sabotage her son's education."

The she-cat's expression was murderous as she stomped past Slatefur. Berrypaw watched her go with a cold feeling in the pit of his stomach. As happy as he was to escape his mother's attentions, he did not want to be alone with Slatefur.

"I'll go then." Blackpaw murmured and started moving away, only to be stopped by Slatefur.

"You don't have to go Blackpaw. I just wanted Meadowlark out of the way so you could work." Slatefur told he medicine cat apprentice. Then he turned his attention to Berrypaw and said, "All I wanted to say to you is be prepared for battle training early tomorrow morning."

"Y-yes, Slatefur." Berrypaw dipped his head respectfully, relief washing over him. He was not going to be scolded after all!

"Make sure I don't have to wake you up." Slatefur growled, walking away.

As Blackpaw smeared herbs on his cuts, Berrypaw reflected on the fact that every cat who played an important role in his life seemed to have problems.


	9. StormClan: Flynose

**StormClan: Flynose**

Rain was pouring into the hollow, pooling at the center of camp. The sky was dark and foreboding, sun blocked entirely by the heavy thunderheads. Graynose's fur was plastered to his body as he moved slowly toward the warriors den, head lowered against the fierce wind. He was looking for someone…

He glanced at the pool of water casually, his eyes traveling over it without really looking. But what he saw caused his head to snap right back to it, focusing on the deepest part at the middle of the large puddle. Mistypool stared back at him, no more than an eerie, transparent figure on the water. Her face was a mask of pain and grief. Suddenly, her lips began to move, eyes pleading. When it became clear that Graynose could not understand her, she grew more and more desperate to make him hear what she was trying to say, eyes growing wild and mouth gaping in a soundless shriek.

As the warrior opened his mouth to cry out to her, she vanished!

Without warning, the rain stopped. Graynose looked up in surprise. From the east, light filtered through the clouds, revealing the silhouette of a cat perched on the Fallen Star, a smooth, black rock that served as the podium from which Clan news and announcements were shared by the leaders of StormClan. Behind the feline form, the clouds parted, indigo sky spreading out in the shape of a bird. Try as he might to identify the cat, no matter how hard he focused on it, the only feature he could make out was deep green eyes filled with wisdom and sadness.

A voice murmured gently into his ear, "You will help her."

And then a sharp pain tore through Graynose, emanating from his tail.

"Ouch!" Graynose jumped to his paws in alarm, still half asleep and filled with the horror of his dream.

"Sorry." Flynose's ginger and white face welcomed him into the waking world. The tom immediately negated his apology by saying, "Don't be such a baby. You'll live."

"Y-you surprised me is all." Graynose stammered, struggling to come to grips with reality. Those sorrowful green eyes were burned into his memory. To clear his head and cover up his unease, he twisted around and began to wash his flank with fierce, quick strokes.

Ignoring the warrior he had unintentionally roused from sleep, Flynose proceeded to prod the still form of Cloudflower. "Hey, wake up! You've been sleeping all morning. It's time to do something useful."

Graynose was somewhat taken aback by the other tom's bossy tone. Flynose was the same age as he was, and had been made a warrior several moons after him. Why was he behaving like Clan deputy? Then he remembered: Silverbranch was his littermate.

"What are you doing, Flynose?" Graynose demanded, padding over as Cloudflower groggily raised her head and looked around in confusion. "Cloudflower was out on a nighttime patrol, same as me and Quailear." He flicked his tail toward the far side of the den, where the old tom was lying on his back, chest rising and falling slowly as he slumbered.

Cloudflower had actually been asleep at the point Graynose had returned from his patrol. She did have the bad habit of oversleeping a lot of the time, but she tried her best when roused and was a very caring she-cat. Graynose felt obliged to defend her, especially against someone who was younger than she was and who did not have any real authority among his Clanmates.

"Well you aren't tonight." Flynose answered with a sniff. "Darkthorn is heading that patrol, so he needs to rest now. You've all gotten enough sleep. Time to do something useful."

"Oh really?" Graynose allowed amusement to color his voice.

The other tom stiffened. "Yes." He hissed, tail twitching. "And fetch that kittypet of yours. It's time he became something other than a burden. You two will join my hunting patrol today. You too, Cloudflower."

"No need to get upset." Graynose meowed, surprised by the tom's anger. "I'll go fetch him now." He hurried out of the warriors' den, not wanting to get snapped at by Flynose again. He wondered what he had done to make him furious enough to hiss, but he shrugged it off and padded into Cinderfang's den. The medicine cat looked up from the herbs he was wrapping and tipped his head questioningly.

"How's Gizmo?" Graynose asked. It had been five sunrises since the kittypet tom had come to StormClan's camp to heal. In that time Gizmo had not left the medicine den at all, no doubt unsettled by the Clan's hostility. Yet he had still been an unwavering source of gossip ever since he showed up, even without showing his face.

"He's fit enough to walk." Cinderfang replied, narrowing his eyes in puzzlement. "But why are you asking? You haven't visited once since he got here."

Graynose blinked, startled by the semi-accusing note in the medicine cat's voice. "Was I supposed to?"

Cinderfang gave him a long look. "You saved his life. He's _your_ responsibility while he's here."

Graynose tipped his head thoughtfully, mulling what the medicine cat said over carefully. He supposed that was true, in a way. No other cat besides himself and Cinderfang had been to see him, although the white warrior had left him largely alone after the first day. With a pang of guilt, Graynose realized he had burdened the medicine cat with the task of bringing him prey. "You're right, Cinderfang." He said at last. "I'll be more present while he remains your patient."

"That's good." Cinderfang meowed with a nod. "Although his time with me is nearly up."

"Is he fit to walk?" Graynose asked, peering around the gray tom to catch a glimpse of the injured Gizmo curled up in his nest.

"More than fit." Cinderfang rolled his eyes. He didn't even bother to hide his derision. "Right now he's just being lazy. I just wanted to keep him to make sure his wound did not become infected. He should be free to go by tomorrow or the next day."

"Good. Flynose wants him to go hunting." Graynose said.

Cinderfang blinked. "We take orders from Flynose?"

"It makes life easier." The warrior shrugged.

"That can't be good for his ego." Cinderfang snorted, turning back to his herbs. "Normally I would say no to deflate his big head, but I think it would be good for our friend to exercise his leg."

"I'll wake him then." Graynose purred. He trotted over to where Gizmo was sleeping in a tight ball, his tail covering his nose and his paws tucked underneath his body. The warrior prodded him sharply with one paw. "Wake up. You need some fresh air."

Gizmo's stunning blue eyes flew open and he picked his head up in alarm, but relaxed when he realized it was only Graynose. Yawning, he meowed, "Oh, Graynose… What's going on?" The soft-furred tom began to groom himself, although his fur was astonishingly sleek and clean already.

"F- …My Clanmates want you to join a hunting patrol." Graynose hesitated at Flynose's name, not wanting to make it sound like there was one cat who had it out for the kittypet. It wasn't like Gizmo would know who Flynose was anyway.

"Hunting?" Alarm flared in Gizmo's eyes. He sat up straight. "I don't know anything about hunting. I won't be of any use to you."

"Well then today will be your first lesson." Graynose said sternly. He got the feeling that the other tom was trying to weasel out of doing anything for the Clan. Gizmo had to know something about hunting; otherwise he would have starved to death if he had not been spotted by the StormClan patrol. It was strange to Graynose that he had not mentioned his twoleg owners at all. Was he a runaway? Or maybe abandoned? He wouldn't be the first cat who's twolegs had dumped him somewhere in the woods. On the opposite side of StormClan's mountain there were several twoleg Thunderpaths, narrow, black stone trails that meandered all the way up the mountain. The strange creatures would ride their monsters to the top and linger for several hours, then return to the odd beasts who would then carry them back down. All StormClan apprentices were taken to this place at one point in their training so they could see what a twoleg was, and so they would know never to venture near them.

Gizmo looked pleadingly into Graynose's bright green eyes, but, finding no pity there, got to his paws with a sigh. "I guess I've got to learn sometime."

"That's the spirit!" Graynose jostled him with his shoulder heartily, causing him to flop back into his nest with a mew of alarm.

"Don't kill him." Cinderfang said, exasperated. "He'll be a little stiff and his leg will be slightly weak. Don't go tussling with him and reopening his injury. Then I'll have to listen to him complain about the "atrociously repulsive" herbs he has to take in order to heal."

Graynose's whiskers twitched, but he kept a relatively straight face as he replied, "Don't you hear that every day?"

"Unfortunately." The medicine cat answered dryly. "What are you still doing here anyway? Get out of my den."

"Come on." The white warrior nudged Gizmo out in front of him, hesitating at the cave mouth. Should he tell Cinderfang about his dream?

An impatient yowl from the camp entrance made Graynose's decision for him. As he bounded after Gizmo, he reasoned that he could tell Cinderfang any time he chose, not that he was that concerned. Perhaps he was just reading too much into things. Prophetic dreams were for the Clan's medicine cat and leader, not a mere warrior like himself.

"Took you long enough." The bossy tom grumbled as the two cats joined him. Cloudflower was pawing at her ears in an effort to finish her morning bath and Eggpaw and Pinepaw were waiting beside the entrance. Eggpaw sat taller than his sister, black-tipped ears angled toward his mentor and eyes traveling back and forth to keep track of the tom's pacing. Pinepaw's lip curled at the sight of their kittypet company.

"Is this the whole patrol?" Graynose ignored Flynose's irritability and surveyed the assembled cats. "It's pretty big for a hunting patrol."

"Silverbranch said I could take whomever I wanted." Flynose said pompously, raising his chin. "If you're ready, we'll get on with it."

"Weren't you going to get Quailear?" Graynose asked, casting his gaze around as though searching for the older warrior. He did this just to get under Flynose's fur as innocently as possible. No cat messed with Quailear unless they had some real power within the Clan, which Flynose did not.

"We don't need more cats." Flynose said shortly, glaring at Graynose, who blinked back with a perplexed expression. "Now come on!"

…

Gizmo let out a cry of dismay as a bird flitted lazily out of his reach. His jump was impressive for a cat with an injured leg, but that was not enough to secure him his prey. It was a wonder the little finch had allowed him to come so close. The kittypet stalked like a one-legged boar and moved like a tortoise through the tall grass, breaking and brushing against almost every stalk he passed. As the four other cats in the patrol laughed cruelly at his attempt, Graynose frowned after the bird. It must have been deaf.

"Call that a crouch?" Pinepaw sneered, whiskers quivering with unsuppressed glee.

"My three-legged uncle could stalk better than that!" Flynose said derisively, a gloating expression on his face. He kept casting meaningful looks at Graynose, as though the white warrior's merit was somehow linked to the clumsy kittypet.

Graynose wanted to point out that it was pointless to expect any cat to catch something on his first try, but he resignedly kept it to himself. Clan cats assumed every cat was taught to hunt at a young age. It seemed like a silly thing not to learn, after all. He himself was somewhat impressed by how _badly_ Gizmo was doing.

"Why don't we split into two groups?" He suggested mildly to Flynose, eyes fixed on Gizmo's embarrassed expression as he turned to face the patrol of Clan cats.

"Why?" Flynose was immediately on the defensive.

"That's the first prey we've seen since we've been out." Graynose meowed semi-scornfully, dumbfounded by the other tom's lack of observation. "There's too many of us and we're too close together. All the prey is either hearing us or smelling us before we even see them."

"Maybe there's just nothing out." Eggpaw suggested helpfully.

"When warriors are talking, you keep your mouth shut." Flynose snapped at his apprentice. Graynose wished the other tom would be nicer to the youthful tom, but Eggpaw never seemed any worse for the wear. He just looked at his mentor in surprise and backed away a bit, mouth firmly clamped shut.

"Fine, we'll split up." Flynose acquiesced. "I'll take Pinepaw and Gizmo. You can go with Cloudflower and Eggpaw."

Like Graynose was going to let that happen.

"Gizmo isn't going to be able to catch anything with the two of you cackling like a bunch of raving ravens." Graynose said sternly. "Cloudflower can go with you and Pinepaw. I'm going to teach Gizmo how to hunt. We can meet back at that crooked pine tree we passed earlier." Kind as she was, Cloudflower had the tendency to laugh along with the crowd whenever something was happening, even if she didn't agree with it, as was evident in her attack of Gizmo with Blackclaw. Eggpaw was probably the most humble cat in the patrol, so Graynose would prefer him to any of the other warriors. It was a good thing Flynose didn't think much of his apprentice.

"Fine." Flynose looked like a kitten who had just been confined to the nursery. If he had had a reasonable excuse for making Gizmo accompany his half of the patrol, he would have forced the issue. But he couldn't look bad in front of the apprentices and Cloudflower by forcing the issue unnecessarily.

"Gizmo!" Graynose called to the kittypet tom, motioning with his tail. "We're splitting the patrol. You're coming with me and Eggpaw."

"Alright." Relief shone in the tom's sky blue eyes.

Flynose's half of the patrol took off in the direction of the RavenClan border, leaving Graynose's half to either venture further up the mountain or head down to some of the sparsely-forested territory along HollyClan's border. Although the area near the HollyClan border would be better in terms of finding prey, Graynose did not want any rival cats to see that StormClan had a kittypet in their midst. Tolerant as he was of the outsider, he did not want his Clan to look weak because of his and Ivystar's compassion. Despite the fact that the other Clans were more lenient when it came to allowing foreigners to become warriors, it did not mean they would not ridicule StormClan for following suit. They had strictly followed the code since the dawn of the Clans, and it would not do for the others to think they had weakened in some way.

"Eggpaw, show Gizmo your hunting crouch." Graynose instructed after leading his patrol onto a flat, smooth boulder. Eggpaw hopped down and dropped into a crouch easily. He kept his body very low, lower than a forest cat went when it went into the stalking position. StormClan, although they taught their apprentices how to stalk, hunted primarily through remaining still and unseen, and then catching their prey by surprise in a sudden burst of movement when it got close enough. Of course, this was mainly for mice and birds. Rabbits and weasels were normally caught in a team, and occasionally a group of cats would attempt to bring down a vulture when times were hard.

"The key to hunting is getting close enough to your prey before trying to catch it." Graynose meowed to Gizmo. Teaching another cat how to hunt came naturally to the warrior, having taught Willowpaw and his apprentice before her, Sandfeather. "You can move pretty fast, especially for a kittypet."

"Especially for an _injured_ kittypet." Eggpaw added from where he remained in a crouching pose.

"Yes. Especially for an injured kittypet." Graynose amended with some amusement. Gizmo opened his mouth to ask something, but Graynose ignored him and went on with his lesson. Apprentices always thought what they had to say was important, but if it was truly important, they would remember it at the end of the lesson. Nine times out of ten they didn't. "But that bird saw you coming from several fox-lengths away. He had plenty of time to flutter away."

"But I _was_ stalking." Gizmo meowed reproachfully.

"I know you were. And you were doing a poor job of it." Graynose said frankly, although he tried not to be unkind. A cat who is always told he is a good hunter as an apprentice when he isn't will always come home without prey as a warrior.

Gizmo looked dejected.

"I'm sorry, but it has to be said before you'll get any better." Graynose said sympathetically. "I want you to come back to camp with prey today. I want you to be able to rub it in Flynose's face. I want to be able to rub it in Flynose's face, come to think of it. But I'm afraid I can't teach you all in one day. We don't have a lot of time. So observe how Eggpaw does it until you feel like you can mimic his movements. Then we will hunt."

"Okay, Graynose." Gizmo said, expression lost somewhere between unhappiness and resignation.

"Eggpaw, pretend this is a mouse." Graynose said, raking together several stalks of dry grass and rolling it into a loose ball. When he was satisfied with his work, he started moving it around with his paw in vaguely mouse-like movements.

The apprentice kept his bright blue eyes fixed on the faux-mouse, tail-tip trembling whenever it disappeared from his sight, yet remaining where he was and trusting that eventually it would make its way back in his direction. With a flick of his paw, Graynose rolled it off the rock and watched as it tumbled downhill. Eggpaw remained as still as possible, and, timing his pounce perfectly, he flattened the grass ball with both paws just as it passed a tail-length in front of him.

"Good job Eggpaw, but keep an eye on that tail of yours." Graynose called to the apprentice.

Eggpaw cast a sheepish glance back at his plumy white tail and meowed, "Yeah, Flynose is always getting onto me about that." It was one of the hardest things for an apprentice to master, as a cat's tail was constantly in tune to how the cat itself was feeling, and for most hunting was one of the most emotionally involved activities one could participate in.

"I think I've got it." Gizmo meowed quietly.

Graynose was pleased that the kittypet had actually paid attention. He jumped down to join Eggpaw on the ground. "Alright then, let's see you in action."

…

"So our friend didn't bring back any prey?" Flynose asked triumphantly as Graynose's patrol trotted over to join the three cats waiting in the shade of the pine tree.

Graynose blinked at the orange-pointed tom. "What makes you say that?"

"He's not carrying any prey." Flynose answered promptly, beginning to deflate at the knowing look Graynose exchanged with the kittypet tom. "Right?"

"Actually, he caught two mice by himself. I caught a rabbit, and then Eggpaw caught a dumpy old pigeon." Graynose listed off their catches happily, enjoying the disbelief in the eyes of the three other cats. To further aggravate Flynose, he added, "You should be proud of your apprentice, Flynose. He was the very image of a good apprentice. He even asked to carry all our prey for us." He flicked his tail to indicate the white tom, who was lagging severely behind and staggering drunkenly from side to side as he made his way slowly toward the rest of the patrol. His jaws were crammed full of prey, and he held the rabbit clamped firmly between his chin and chest.

"How did you guys do?" Gizmo asked innocently.

"We did good, too." Cloudflower answered, clearly impressed. "But nothing as big as that rabbit. Let me help you, Eggpaw." She hurried forward to assist the younger cat before he tipped over completely.

"Let's go." Flynose turned away without acknowledging their impressive haul and began plodding back toward home.


	10. RavenClan: Stepping Down

**RavenClan: Stepping Down**

"You're sure you want to go through with this?" Yewstar's heart was heavy with emotion as she looked at her deputy, Smokepatch.

The big black and white tom nodded and blinked at her affectionately. "You knew it was coming, Yewstar. I'm too old for this job. It's time for some fresh paws to take my title."

The two cats were holed up in the privacy of Yewstar's den. Smokepatch's countenance was sad, yet accepting, while the RavenClan leader looked utterly devastated. She gave a weak purr and meowed, "I had hoped if I ignored it you would forget."

"I promised you one last Leafbare." Smokepatch said softly, moving forward so that Yewstar was forced to meet his eyes. "We're through that now. I'm too old to serve as I used to… and you're too old to be using me as a crutch, Yewstar. You know you don't need me anymore. You haven't needed me since your first few moons as leader."

"Of course I need you, Smokepatch." Yewstar meowed, shocked that he would suggest such a thing. "No leader has ever had such a noble deputy."

Smokepatch gave a bark of laughter. "Save your flattery, you silver-tongued temptress!"

Despite herself, Yewstar found herself purring. "Well, I hope you'll enjoy your life as a rotten old warrior." She hesitated. "You're-"

"Yes! For the zillionth time, I'm sure!" Smokepatch interrupted crossly.

Yewstar sighed. "Alright then." She got to her paws and butted the older cat's shoulder with her head. "I'll tell the Clan."

"You know I'll always be there if you need advice." Smokepatch said in an effort to ease his leader's sadness.

The golden she-cat paused at the entrance. _It won't be the same!_ "I know."

"You've put thought into who you want as your successor?"

"I have." Yewstar's throat felt tight. It had been hard to do, but she had spent long nights thinking about this. She was certain she had made the right choice, although now that the moment had actually come, she had her doubts.

Smokepatch inclined his head, seeming a little surprised. "Who are you thinking of?"

A crafty gleam appeared in Yewstar's eyes as she glanced back at her old friend. "Come outside and I'll tell you." So saying, she bounded out of her den and nimbly scurried up into the dead tree whose roots formed her den. As she reached one large, outreaching branch she yowled, "RavenClan, gather beneath the Lightning Tree and hear my words!"

Surprised murmurs broke out as the Clan gathered in the shade of the white tree's branches. None of them knew that their trusted deputy was stepping down. It had been a secret between Smokepatch and Yewstar. The Clan had no reason to think the old tom would retire. He was still muscular and powerful, despite the many season-cycles he had behind him. No cat had noticed his speed waning and his senses dulling over time, little by little. Not even Yewstar.

Watching her Clan gather, the golden leader noticed Zoey, a stray kitten that had been found by a border patrol, sitting beside some apprentices. No cat truly knew her age, as the black and white she-cat had always been rather small, but seeing her next to Leopardpaw and Robinpaw, Yewstar decided that it was time for her to take a Clan name and begin her training alongside them. The cheeky furball had been begging for a name ever since she came to the Clan, but the struggles of Leafbare had put a hold on any ceremonies. She was a popular kit, and Yewstar sensed that making her an apprentice would lift the spirits of her Clanmates after the sad duty she now had to perform.

"Cats of RavenClan," Yewstar began, starting as soon as her Clanmates were gathered so that she would not have time to dwell on her feelings. "It is my sad duty to announce to you all today…. our beloved deputy, Smokepatch, wishes to retire." Unhappy yowls rose up from the assembled cats, but the golden leader noticed several of her older warriors nodding to themselves. Some of them had expected it, although none looked pleased by the news. Every eye turned to where the old cat was sitting, as tall and proud as always, in his customary place beneath the White Branch Yewstar was addressing the Clan from.

"The good news," Yewstar went on, raising her voice to be heard over the displeased mutterings of her Clan. "Is that he will not be retiring to the elders' den quite yet. He has simply expressed his wishes to retire from his post as deputy. May StarClan grant him many moons more before he must give up the warrior life."

"Like we would take him anyway!" The cheeky yowl of Tinybird rose from the middle of the crowd. A ripple of amusement spread throughout the Clan cats.

"I won't join you until I'm sure I've earned my place in your den." Smokepatch said formally.

"You've been a great deputy, Smokepatch. I'm sorry you won't be around to pull my tail out of the fire anymore…" A tom named Pigeonfoot lamented teasingly. He could be a real jokester and trouble-maker sometimes, but any cat could see the sorrow in his expression. It was tough to see one's role-models and teachers age and wither away.

"I'm not dead yet, you mouse-brain!" Smokepatch cuffed his ear playfully.

"Help! He's not as feeble as he looks!" Pigeonfoot cried out dramatically, moving to hide behind Marshfang, who promptly shifted a tail-length to the side.

"I have one more announcement before I announce our new deputy." Yewstar said loudly, recapturing the attention of her audience. "Zoey, will you please step forward?"

Yellow eyes wide, the she-cat hurried forward to stand beneath the branch with Yewstar gazing down at her from her perch. Even from so high above, the RavenClan leader could see the excitement in the younger cat's face. As she began the naming ceremony, Yewstar could not help but think that Zoey was growing up to be an exceptionally pretty she-cat. She would have the toms drooling at her feet when she got a bit older.

"Cats of RavenClan, we found this young she-cat as a kit, lost and caked with mud, completely lost, afraid, and nearly starved to death." She could still see the little scrap as they had first brought her to her that drizzly Leafbare morning. It was so unusual to find a kit on its own, but RavenClan was accustomed to welcoming outsiders. And the younger, the better.

"Liontail found her and brought her to us, and Moonwing raised her as her own, and now I wish for her to have Bearheart as a mentor, a cat who will teach her the ways of the Clan, as well as impart upon her the skills of our ancestors. You learned well from Lizardtail, and I hope you shall pass on all the wit and courage you gained from him." Bearheart stepped up to stand beside the she-cat, looking pleased. She was to be his first apprentice, but Yewstar knew he would do a good job. She rather hoped he would pass on some of his laid-back attitude to the easily-offended Zoey. "But before you can take her as an apprentice, she needs a name."

Yewstar slithered down the trunk of the tree, landing perfectly in front of the two cats. She raised her voice so that the Clan would be able to hear her now that she was no longer on her vantage point above. "Zoey, from this day forth, until you receive your warrior name, you will be known as Squirrelpaw. Learn well from your mentor, young one. Your Clan is counting on you."

The newly-named Squirrelpaw lifted her head to touch noses with her mentor, eyes shining happily and bushy tail curled in delight.

Yewstar allowed the Clan to chant the new apprentice's name for several minutes before reclaiming her perch and yowling for silence once more. "Now for our grand finale! Our new deputy."

Mutters of anticipation broke out among the Clan.

"Who can replace Smokepatch?" Fretted Eaglecreek to Tinybird. The two elders had not seen a change in leadership since Yewstar rose to power and took Smokepatch as her deputy.

"I bet it'll be Marshfang!" Duskpaw meowed to his denmates eagerly.

"No way! It's going to be Liontail," Leopardpaw argued, loyally sticking up for his mentor. To apprentices, everything was a competition.

"Your new deputy will be…." Yewstar paused for dramatic effect, making sure she had her audience's full attention before announcing, "Sagefrost! Sagefrost will be the new deputy of RavenClan." From the stunned silence that followed, she gathered that Sagefrost was not the cat they were expecting.

"Sagefrost?" The outraged screech came from Featherfur, near the front of the crowd. "Why Sagefrost?"

"Because he's the best cat for the job." Yewstar answered calmly, gaze locked with the brown she-cat. She knew that Featherfur had harbored hopes of becoming deputy, so she had expected this reaction. In truth, Featherfur would probably make an excellent leader. She was smart, resourceful, and she was well-versed in Clan politics. But the fact of the matter was she was too stiff and stuffy to be RavenClan's leader. She did not embody RavenClan's spirit, and should she become leader Yewstar knew that the Clan would experience changes. RavenClan would become un-RavenClan. She could not allow that to happen.

Pigeonfoot would have been Yewstar's first choice for deputy. He was a crafty young cat, but the true problem was his youth and the fact that he was a well-known trouble-maker among all the Clans. He was Yewstar's most trusted spy when it came to scouting out other Clans and stealing prey from over the border in hard times, and yet despite all of that she felt that she could not give him the position of deputy without bringing down the wrath of the other leaders. She knew he would understand, and he would probably be happier as a warrior. Pigeonfoot was so carefree; it would be rather cruel to pin him down with the responsibility of a deputy, and possibly leader later on down the road. Yewstar wasn't exactly young these days.

Featherfur looked away, looking as though she had been kicked in the stomach.

Every cat turned to Sagefrost, who was crouched self-consciously beside Liontail and Firesplash. The fiery she-cat and her brother were the first to begin the chant. "Sagefrost! Sagefrost!"

The rest of the Clan joined in after that, although Yewstar noticed the most zealous cheers came from the younger warriors and apprentices. _Good._ She thought to herself. The older warriors were used to having things a certain way and would resent change no matter who it was she chose to fill Smokepatch's pawsteps. It was the support of the younger half of the Clan that Sagefrost would need when and if he became leader of RavenClan, for they were the cats who had grown up with him and who could look up to him as an elder and a role model.

The RavenClan leader saw Pigeonfoot cheering on the other tom heartily. No trace of jealousy or disappointment marred his features. She hoped he would support Sagefrost as much as he had supported her leadership and Smokepatch's.

When her gaze met Smokepatch's she was amused to see his bewilderment and worry. At her cheeky wink, a glimmer of understanding flitted across his face. She didn't want a popular cat, or even a skilled cat. She wanted a cat who would embrace the spirit of RavenClan tradition after she was gone.

"Send Sagefrost to my den when the congratulations die down." She told him as she hopped down to the ground. "He's going to need some encouragement."

"I have to admit, he was the last cat I expected." Smokepatch conceded. "But when I think about it…. I think you made the right choice."

"I knew you'd come around." Yewstar responded drolly.

"Yewstar!"

"Brace yourself." Smokepatch said out of the corner of his mouth as Yewstar turned to face a very aggravated Featherfur.

"Yes?" Yewstar asked calmly. Inwardly, she berated herself for not darting into her den as soon as the ceremony was over. She should have known her cousin would make a point to see her afterward. As always, she was here to give her judgment on whatever her leader did. This was the first time Yewstar had seen her genuinely upset, however.

"How could you make that… that kitten RavenClan's deputy?" Featherfur's voice was high-pitched and unhappy. "He only thinks of himself and doesn't know the first thing about politics! He's going to lead us into oblivion."

"I think he'll make an excellent deputy." Yewstar meowed firmly. She could not explain why, but she felt that becoming deputy would bring out the tom's true potential. It was true that Sagefrost could be very self-absorbed, but it was a problem that had become less and less noticeable since his apprentice days. All RavenClan cats were slightly self-indulgent anyway due to kittypet and loner origins. That did not mean that they did not all have the hearts of warriors.

"I don't see how." Featherfur grumbled.

Yewstar leaned forward and murmured into her ear, "Trust me." Then she disappeared into her den without another word, leaving a sullen-looking Featherfur behind her.

…

"There must be some mistake." Sagefrost blurted out as soon as he set paw in Yewstar's den. His green eyes were round and frightened. The hesitation in his Clanmates to accept him was clearly haunting his thoughts. "I can't be deputy!"

Yewstar tipped her head to the side in a puzzled expression. "Why not?"

Sagefrost was stunned by the simple fact that she had to ask. His mouth moved, but for a moment he was unable to respond. When he managed it, his voice was shrill. "You saw how the Clan reacted! They don't want me! They want Featherfur, or-or Marshfang. Even Liontail or Pigeonfoot would be better than me." He hung his head.

"I chose you because I can see that you have potential, Sagefrost." Yewstar said gently, padding over to rest her tail comfortingly on his shoulder. "In all your seasons with me as your leader, have you ever doubted my judgment?"

"Well… no." Sagefrost mewed, not meeting her eyes.

"Then trust me now." She urged. "Do you think I would pick someone I wasn't certain would make a good deputy?"

"No." Sagefrost said. "But-"

"What is it about you that makes you think that you will make a poor deputy?" Yewstar interrupted, gazing intently at the younger cat.

"I-I have no experience." Sagefrost stammered.

"Experience doing what? Being deputy? I'm pretty sure only myself and Smokepatch have that kind of experience." She flicked her ear as though driving away a bothersome fly. "What else?"

"I meant experience leading cats." Sagefrost said in exasperation.

"Sure you do. If I recall you led a patrol just the other day." The golden she-cat reminded him. "And that's not the first one Smokepatch has put you on either. You've led plenty. Marshfang even told me you had a good head on your shoulders when it came to unexpected encounters, such as that HollyClan patrol that nearly chased a rabbit across our border. He said you dealt with them admirably."

"I guess so." He said reluctantly. Most cats didn't see daily border patrols as a venue for nurturing leadership skills, but Yewstar knew that that was exactly how it was. Because most cats were intimidated by her, she had grown accustomed to listening closely to what her Clanmates said about one another. She could not just accompany a patrol and assess a cat's control over his or her Clanmates. All cats would naturally defer to her for her opinion rather than doing things on their own.

"So is there anything else bothering you?" Yewstar questioned, still watching him closely. His initial panic had subsided and now he was just sitting in her den with a bleak look.

"I just…. how can I ever take over for Smokepatch?" Sagefrost asked helplessly.

Yewstar sighed sympathetically. "This change is hard for everyone, Sagefrost. Especially Smokepatch. But I cannot begrudge him his retirement. Not many deputies have the luxury of being alive to see the cat who replaces them." She paused. "You're going to be a great deputy. The reason I chose you is because I think you will have the drive and the willingness to better yourself for the sake of your Clan. Am I right?"

Sagefrost hesitated, then finally nodded and murmured, "I will do my best for RavenClan."


	11. HollyClan: Mentor's Pet

**Author's Note: Posting a little early since I'll be busy tomorrow. The next chapter may be late because of the holidays, but I will definitely try to keep on schedule. **

* * *

><p><strong>Mentor's Pet<strong>

"Littlepaw! Wingpaw! Quit goofing off!" Owlfeather yowled impatiently back at the two she-cats. Satisfaction coursed through Berrypaw to hear another cat get scolded.

The two siblings merely giggled and rejoined the three warriors heading this patrol of mentors and apprentices. Slatefur had postponed their battle training upon being invited out to hunt with Owlfeather, Bearpelt, and their apprentices. Berrypaw was extremely disappointed, but he had to admit that Slatefur was right: the training hollow wasn't going anywhere. Still, he did not relish the thought of being shown up by cats a moon his juniors. He intended to stick close to the warriors, or to wander off on his own if they ended up splitting up.

"You're here to learn, not run around like silly rabbits." The grayish-brown tom said sternly, although his whiskers trembled with suppressed laughter at the energy of the younger apprentices. Berrypaw snorted. Owlfeather was nowhere near as strict as Slatefur. Which was just as well, because he was also nowhere hear as intimidating.

"Sorry Owlfeather." Wingpaw meowed cheerfully. While her energy was undiminished, she did make more of an effort to be quiet and keep pace with the warriors.

Bearpelt was at the head of the patrol. As he was the oldest, the other two warriors had entrusted him with the task of finding a good place to practice. The three cats were planning something, but just what they had in mind Berrypaw couldn't say. Mistthorn had given him a knowing look and wished him luck on his way out of camp, so he assumed it was meant to be a test of some kind. Just what he needed…

"You don't look too happy, Berrypaw." Owlfeather observed. His tone was friendly, yet searching. He wanted to know what was on Berrypaw's mind, but Berrypaw barely knew the warrior and simply grunted in response.

"He's unhappy about missing out on the battle training I promised him." Slatefur said with a sniff. He fixed his yellow glare on the young tom in a look that plainly said _"You had better shape up, or else!"_ "Like the training hollow is going anywhere."

"Littlepaw's already had her first training lesson." Bearpelt growled, glancing at Slatefur. "You'll have to get his fighting skills in shape soon, Slatefur. Otherwise my apprentice will flatten him in the battle assessments next moon." Bearpelt was one of the only warriors who could boast being older than Slatefur. Because the two of them were the most experienced cats in the Clan, they tended to get a little competitive, in their own grouchy way. Bearpelt especially.

"I'll teach him when he's ready." Slatefur said simply.

"You can't wait forever, Slatefur. Ready or not, trouble with other Clans always comes." Bearpelt meowed, giving himself a shake. That movement along with his shaggy brown-mottled fur really did make the old cat look like a lumbering bear.

"Nightfang said you took him battle training in his first quarter moon." Owlfeather pointed out mildly.

"What is this? Gang up on Slatefur day?" The gray cat snapped irritably. "You two stick to training your own apprentices and let me worry about mine. I don't tell you what to do, now do I?"

Owlfeather pretended to consider this for a moment, then said in a mock-thoughtful tone, "Wait, who was it that said I needed to be less accommodating with Wingpaw because she asked too many questions?"

"And who was it that told me Littlepaw was too small to learn how to knock an enemy down?" Bearpelt chipped in, golden eyes flashing mischievously.

Slatefur gave a soft growl and trotted to the front of the party, tail twitching.

Wingpaw and Littlepaw purred in amusement, which caused Berrypaw's fur to grow hot. Part of him found it as funny as they did, but another part found it highly embarrassing. For a whole moon Slatefur had been his primary source of company. He had grown to fear the old tom's judgment and punishments whenever he did something wrong, and he even relished the occasional approving look that, to Slatefur, was equivalent to praise. Seeing others get the better of him, in wordplay or otherwise, made the monumental figure in Berrypaw's life seem like something…. lesser.

"I heard you were in your first fight, Berrypaw." Littlepaw mewed. The little black she-cat trotted up to walk beside him, eyes shining with admiration.

"Er, yeah." Berrypaw said awkwardly, remembering how badly the StormClan apprentice had beaten him. The scratch on his face was still healing, although he could barely feel it now thanks to Blackpaw's herbs.

"Was it scary?" Wingpaw bounded up on his other side, just as fascinated as her sister.

"No. It was…" Berrypaw searched for the right word, but couldn't find it, so he settled for, "Exciting. It was very exciting."

"I'm scared to go into battle." Littlepaw admitted.

"I'm not!" Wingpaw meowed, tail curling up. "I'm going to be the greatest warrior the Clan's ever seen! No StormClan cat is going to take _my_ territory."

"_Your_ territory?" Littlepaw flattened her ears playfully. "Big talk, since _I'm_ going to be leader."

Ambition flared in Berrypaw's belly at Littlepaw's claim. _He_ wanted to be leader. He wanted to be the cat his Clanmates looked to for big decisions, the cat most respected by everyone. Then he wouldn't have to take orders from grumpy old Slatefur! But he felt the blaze of ambition die in his belly when he considered the fact that every apprentice dreamed of being the next leader. Only one or two of them would ever come close, and when he compared his abilities to young cats like Stormpaw and Duckpaw, he knew he would not be any leader's first choice for deputy. Even Wingpaw had more talent than he did.

"Something wrong Berrypaw?" Wingpaw asked, blinking at him.

"No, nothing." The young tom said quickly, realizing he had been making a face.

"Alright kitties, here we are." Bearpelt stopped suddenly and sat down. They had arrived at the training ground.

They were on the very edge of HollyClan land and as far away from any other Clan's borders as possible. Berrypaw had never been to this particular landmark in his Clan's territory, but the look was unmistakable. They were in the Dogwood Ring, a place where a twoleg den had once been erected in the forest, long before Berrypaw's time. It had long since been abandoned and rotted to the ground. Only the circle of twoleg-planted trees remained.

"What have you got planned for us, Bearpelt?" Littlepaw asked politely, sitting in front of him and curling her tail around her paws. Her eyes were bright as she looked expectantly up at her mentor.

"It's a little bit of a competition." Bearpelt meowed, casting a quick glance at the other mentors. "Whenever Slatefur and I have apprentices we always pit them against each other to see who's the better hunter, fighter, and so on."

"We decided to let Owlfeather tag along this time." Slatefur said, seeing the three apprentices cast confused glances at the younger warrior.

"Today you will be tested on your hunting skills." Owlfeather meowed, ignoring Slatefur. The gray warrior was acting like an older apprentice being forced to show the newest one around. "Bearpelt will fill you in on the details."

"We're going to send you off in three different directions and we want you to come back with as much prey as you can." Bearpelt explained. "Each type of prey is worth a certain amount of points based on size and difficulty to catch. Mice and voles are one point, birds and squirrels are two, and rabbits are worth three. Shrews aren't worth anything, so try not to catch any shrews."

"In addition to what you catch, we will also be observing how you catch it." Slatefur took over, fixing each apprentice in a stern glare. "So make sure you use the skills your mentor taught you." His gaze lingered on Berrypaw.

"Slatefur will follow Littlepaw, I'll follow Wingpaw, and Owlfeather will follow Berrypaw. Agreed?" Bearpelt listed off each pairing easily. Berrypaw noticed that none of the warriors were following their own apprentices, so each judge would be completely impartial.

"Agreed." Owlfeather and Slatefur said in unison.

"Choose your direction and go, young ones. Make sure you stay in our territory." Bearpelt rumbled, raising his tail to signal the start of the competition.

Wingpaw shot off immediately, taking the path north along the border toward RavenClan territory. Slatefur shook his head and sighed. "Much too impatient."

Bearpelt nudged his shoulder none-too-gently with his head. "You're just jealous because she's prettier than you."

Slatefur gave him a long-suffering look. "Shouldn't you be going somewhere?"

With a rusty purr, the big bearish tomcat loped off into the forest after the apprentice.

Berrypaw sighed and cast a fleeting look at Owlfeather. Of all the warriors present, he liked the tabby tom the least. Perhaps it was because he was used to being around moody, unpredictable cats, but he found Owlfeather's pleasant manner of speaking and boyish personality highly unsettling. He had grown to resent the kittenish energy of the other apprentices in the same way. Sometimes Berrypaw felt as though he had grown old before his time, worrying constantly about pleasing his mentor and making his sister proud of him, as well as his constant struggle to avoid Meadowlark so that she would not embarrass him anymore.

"Ready?" Owlfeather prompted, looking back and forth between the two remaining apprentices.

"Yeah." Berrypaw got to his paws. He paused, waiting to see if Littlepaw was going to choose one of the remaining two directions. For some reason, she was staring at her paws with a highly disappointed expression. But then, she was going to be critiqued by Slatefur. He wasn't exactly delicate when it came to pointing out the flaws of others.

"Will you two get a move on? Wingpaw has a head start, you know." Slatefur meowed irately, an impatient gleam in his eye. He didn't want to lose the contest. Berrypaw didn't know whether to be flattered or frustrated by his mentor's confidence in his abilities. Sure, he had been practicing, but the most he had brought home was a mouse and a sparrow. Hardly a feast.

As Littlepaw had yet to choose her course, Berrypaw set off in the direction of camp, choosing the path that would take him deeper into his Clan's territory. That would leave Littlepaw the route leading toward the StormClan border. Although Berrypaw doubted that their little competition would take him anywhere near the StormClan border, he had no wish to run into Pinepaw or Eggpaw. No doubt they would be utterly insufferable the next time they met. Apprentices in the same Clan could be extremely aggressive when it came to being the best. Apprentices from _different_ Clans would be downright ruthless.

At first Berrypaw's search for prey was absolutely fruitless. He cursed himself for not realizing that he was backtracking and following their path from earlier. All the prey in the area had evacuated at the sound of the cats' conversation. He would have to veer off to one side if he hoped to find any.

Randomly, he swerved off his chosen course and allowed his instincts to guide him. The amount of busy rustling in the trees was almost riotous, although that did not mean any creatures were fool enough to brave the ground. It was infuriating for Berrypaw to see squirrel tails flicking playfully in his peripheral vision and hear the distant call of a songbird.

A cacophony of tiny, short chirps led the young tom to a bush full of wrens. For a reason only known to them, for there were no berries on this bush, the little birds were swarming the branches, prancing alertly from one twig to another and peering out at the forest with a hundred eyes. Every so often a handful of them would venture far enough to light on a scraggly young tree, or to explore the ground below in short bursts before zipping straight back to the collective.

To any Clan cat, it was a buffet presented by StarClan themselves. Berrypaw almost wished his Clanmates were here to help him catch more of the silly creatures.

Taking a deep breath, he tiptoed closer to the birds. The closer he got, the slower he moved until he was inching forward whisker-length by whisker-length. By the time he had closed the distance by half his entire body was aching with anticipation and the need to stretch his tensed muscles.

He had not been discovered…. yet he did not dare try to get any closer. Birds may be dumb, but they were not blind. One of them was bound to notice the brown tabby boulder that hadn't been there before. And then they would notice it had ears and whiskers.

A whirlwind of wings and shrieks met the young tom as he shot forward. His claws came down on two unsuspecting birds before they could rise higher than his ears, but the others made it away. Their high-pitched trills of alarm echoed through the forest long after they were gone from his sight.

_Four points._ Berrypaw tallied, pleased. The birds were hardly more than a mouthful, but he was willing to bet the three mentors were going to place more value on the challenge involved. Mice had more meat, but they were also easiest to catch.

Berrypaw hid his prey near the base of a tall ash tree, then stopped for a moment to get his bearings and decide which direction to travel in next. Out of habit he tasted the air, examining the forest scents. The scent of rotting bark and green grass met his nose. Nothing unusual. On a whim he decided to double back the way he came and try near the trail he had abandoned. As he turned around the wind suddenly changed direction, bringing with it the smell of a strange cat.

Spine stiffening, Berrypaw forgot about hunting prey and started tracking the cat-scent. It was definitely not HollyClan. It didn't smell Clan at all. It smelled _weird_. Perhaps it was one of those kittypets he had heard about from his Clanmates. Unusual cats who relied on twolegs for food and protection. Nightfang often complained about finding curious kittypets on HollyClan land. He was always disappointed that the soft-bellied twoleg playthings didn't put up much of a fight.

But the smell… it didn't reek like twolegs. It was a wild scent, not dissimilar to HollyClan's. It smelled of loam and growing things, too. But somehow it smelled… cold. Like stone did on a freezing Leafbare morning. And sour, like something rotten.

The apprentice followed the scent-trail to a thick clump of ferns. Fear surged through him, but he pushed back and thrust his face aggressively through the leafy fronds, ears flattened and tensed for a blow or explosion of fur as an enemy cat charged him. But he was greeted with nothing but flattened ferns. Whoever had been hiding here had moved on, but the scent was still powerful. They hadn't been gone long.

Nervously, he cast a glance behind him to make sure no one was sneaking up on him. The forest was quiet.

Berrypaw cautiously began searching the area, nose to the ground and ears perked for the sound of pawsteps. He flinched once or twice, his imagination turning the sound of wind through the trees into enemy fur brushing undergrowth. Where was Owlfeather? Wasn't he supposed to be watching? Surely he could tell there was an unfamiliar cat in the area. If Berrypaw could, a warrior definitely could.

Eventually Berrypaw's thoughts turned back to the contest. There was no cat in his immediate area, so there was no point in him following the trail anymore. He wasn't strong enough to take care of an intruder by himself anyway. Slatefur would take care of it when he got back to the meeting place and reported it to him.

Satisfied with his solution, Berrypaw charged off into the woods again in search of prey.

…

"Have you got any more prey, Berrypaw?" Owlfeather asked. The warrior tom had approached the apprentice after witnessing him stalk and kill a plump mouse. The sun was at its highest point, semi-hidden behind a cloud as it peeked down at the cats below.

Berrypaw nodded, relieved to have a decent haul this time around. Even if he didn't win this silly competition, at least he had some prey to show. Three catches in one hunting expedition was an all-time high for him. "I stashed it back near where I started." He meowed.

"Good." Owlfeather nodded approvingly. "Let's go collect it and get back to the others."

Silence spread between the two toms as they padded through the forest. Even though they were Clanmates, Berrypaw felt that he barely knew Owlfeather. He was just a cat that came and went sometimes on patrols. He seemed like a nice cat from what Wingpaw would say about him, and Littlepaw was always willing to praise his kind and patient mannerisms whenever she would accompany her sister to her training sessions.

"Nice weather, huh?" The warrior meowed, blinking up at the blue sky above.

Berrypaw grunted noncommittally through the mouse in his jaws. He wasn't used to idle chatter. Slatefur was always stoically silent, and Meadowlark was always busy chattering on about herself and sharing the latest gossip, which meant Berrypaw typically only had to look vaguely interested while lost in his own thoughts.

"Not very social?" Amusement coated Owlfeather's question.

Berrypaw could not roll his eyes hard enough to express his distaste for this conversation. What kind of fool asked someone with _prey_ in his mouth a question and expected an answer?

Upon reaching the ash tree where Berrypaw had hidden his wrens, the two cats found the area utterly devoid of fresh-kill. At first Berrypaw was confused, but as he searched the vicinity he realized that he could still detect a faint trace of bird-scent. Filled with puzzlement, the young tom simply sat down and stared at the place where his prey used to be. Where had it gone? He struggled to come up with an answer. And then it hit him like a lightning bolt. _The cat!_

"What are you doing Berrypaw? Where's your prey?" Owlfeather asked, watching the apprentice with a mystified expression.

"My prey… it's missing." Berrypaw explained. "Someone stole the birds I caught." A knot of horror formed in his stomach at the blank expression on the warrior's face. "You were watching, right? You saw me bury them here, didn't you?"

"I'm sorry Berrypaw." Owlfeather said awkwardly. "I hadn't caught up with you at that point… I guess. How do you know some_one_ took your prey and not a fox or something?" He put emphasis on the "one".

Berrypaw looked at the grayish tabby as though he had gone insane. "Do you smell fox?"

"No." Owlfeather admitted, slightly aggravated by the apprentice's tone. "But I don't smell cat either. All I smell is you."

A quick sniff told Berrypaw that the warrior was right. There was no cat-scent besides his own fresh scent. He could not even pick up the smell of the old scent from when he had come by earlier, but he reasoned that it would be lost under the new ones anyway.

"I scented an intruder earlier. Right after I hid my… my birds." Berrypaw meowed, realization hitting him. Whoever he had scented before had circled back and stolen his catch! They had probably been spying on him the whole time to see where he hid it, too…

"An intruder?" Alarm crept into Owlfeather's mew. "Why didn't you say something earlier?"

"I didn't think I was supposed to track you down. I was going to tell Slatefur when I got back." Berrpaw meowed defensively.

"You should have yelled for me, Berrypaw. They could have been dangerous." The tom meowed, fixing the apprentice in a stern green glare.

"I didn't know." Berrypaw shrugged, refusing to feel guilty. No one had told him what to do if he saw an intruder. That wasn't his fault.

Owlfeather gave him a long look, deflating slightly. "Why don't you show me where you scented the intruder?"

"They hid behind a clump of ferns over here." Berrypaw meowed, hurrying back to the place he had first caught wind of the strange scent. As he retraced his steps from earlier to return to the site, his heart sank. There was no trace of all the evidence he had discovered. Not even a stray scent, save for the unusually strong smell of pine sap. The only thing that remained was the vaguely cat-sized imprint among the fronds, but that in itself was not proof of an intruder. Berrypaw himself had trampled the surrounding area as he tried to track down the stranger.

"I-It was here." Berrypaw stammered, absolutely bewildered by this turn of events.

"There's nothing here Berrypaw." Owlfeather meowed slowly, eyes narrowing suspiciously. "Are you telling tales to try and win this little competition?"

The apprentice was so stunned by this accusation that all he could do was stare. Did Owlfeather really think he cared about this stupid little exercise? It was just a game designed to kindle the competitive spirit of young cats in order to entice them to be more productive and bring out their best efforts. Or did the warriors think that they were all too mouse-brained to grasp the concept?

But in a flash Berrypaw understood. Owlfeather wasn't asking because he thought that Berrypaw was competitive. He was asking because he remembered that Berrypaw had been a chronic liar as a kit!

_I'm not a kit anymore. Can't anyone see that?_ Berrypaw thought resentfully. "If you don't believe me, fine." He said shortly, paws burning with suppressed fury and annoyance. Stiff-legged, he brushed past the warrior and collected his mouse before padding back in the direction of the Dogwood Ring.

…

As Berrypaw emerged from the woods he realized that he was the last one back. Wingpaw was busy chasing a butterfly while Littlepaw was crouched beside her mentor, lost deep in thought as she studied her paws. Bearpelt and Slatefur weren't looking at each other, and from the aggravated slant to his mentor's ears, Berrypaw was willing to bet that his old rival had been shooting off barbed comments about Berrypaw's performance.

The three cats turned to look at him as he padded across to join them. His ears burned with shame as he padded over to place his single catch on the ground in front of Slatefur. He kept his eyes lowered, afraid of the bitter disappointment he knew he would see in the old tom's eyes. It was one thing to be an embarrassment to his mentor when they were alone, but the sting was made even more painful by the triumph radiating from Bearpelt.

"This is everything?" Slatefur asked softly. The disbelief and disenchantment in his voice was more than enough to make Berrypaw crouch ever lower.

"Well, he claims that he caught two birds while I wasn't watching." Owlfeather called as he trotted up to join them. He had fallen fairly far behind, leaving Berrypaw to fume well in front of him. "Which is a possibility… but he also claims that they were stolen by an intruder."

"An intruder?" Bearpelt growled. "Did you find the piece of fox-dung."

"Well… no. I didn't find anything. Not even a stale scent." Owlfeather admitted reluctantly, glancing at Berrypaw's hunched form.

"Was he making it up?" Bearpelt demanded sharply, his gaze snapping to Berrypaw.

His tone caused Berrypaw to flinch, but he sat up and glared defiantly around him. "I know what I smelled. There _was_ an intruder. Whoever it was knew where I buried my prey. They were _watching_ me. I bet they came back after I left and hid the scent with… with water or something. I don't know."

Bearpelt frowned, eyes narrowing until they were nothing more than golden slits. "Why would somebody be stalking an apprentice?"

"We will check the area later. With a patrol of warriors." Slatefur meowed thoughtfully.

"You think he's telling the truth?" Owlfeather asked carefully, eyes flicking briefly to Berrypaw before returning to Slatefur.

Wingpaw opened her mouth to say something, but a quick glance from her mentor caused her to close it and crouch beside her sister, green eyes wide.

"You think he's lying?" Slatefur growled, expression dangerous.

"W-well…" Owlfeather scuffed the ground with his front paw.

"We all remember how Berrypaw was as a kit, Slatefur." Bearpelt meowed bluntly. "He stole a mouse from the elders' den and then denied it, even though he was caught red-pawed. By none other than yourself, I might add."

"I also recall that when I was a kit you tried to feed me some of Fennelfire's traveling herbs just so you could see me spit them out in disgust." Slatefur said dryly. "That doesn't mean I don't trust you with my life now. All kits are mouse-brains and troublemakers. That doesn't mean they don't grow up to be good warriors."

Berrypaw was speechless. Of all the cats in the Clan, Slatefur was the last cat he expected to stick up for him.

Bearpelt thought for a moment, then dipped his head in acknowledgement. "True enough. But we're still not counting his birds."

Littlepaw snorted in amusement and Slatefur raised his eyes to StarClan. "Fine. If it means so much to you."

"How did you do?" Owlfeather asked Wingpaw, who sat up proudly.

"She did very well." Bearpelt meowed begrudgingly. Although he was guaranteed second place thanks to Berrypaw's misfortune, it was clear that Wingpaw had performed as expected and secured a victory for Owlfeather.

_Mentor's pet…_

"I caught a rabbit, a squirrel, and two mice." Wingpaw said happily, flouncing over to the small fresh-kill pile she had constructed. Beside that was Littlepaw's haul: a grackle, a mourning dove, and a mouse. Berrypaw realized with a pang that if his prey hadn't been stolen, he would be tied with the little black she-cat right now. Instead he was dead last.

_So not fair… _

"Littlepaw did well." Slatefur meowed, whiskers twitching at the sullen expression on Bearpelt's face. "She hesitated a bit when it came to catching the birds, but the important thing is that she caught them."

Berrypaw scowled. Slatefur would never have been so generous with him. If he had hesitated while stalking prey, he knew for a fact that his mentor would have reprimanded him sternly and told him that he needed to work on his timing.

Littlepaw met his eyes and blinked in confusion, which made Berrypaw look away, suddenly aware that he had been gazing at the she-cat with something like resentment. He didn't hate Littlepaw. He just wished his mentor would show him the same leniency he had showed her when judging his skills. Or that he had Wingpaw's talent and spunk, although he could not see Slatefur tolerating such wild enthusiasm during his training sessions.

"Of course she did well." Bearpelt rumbled, blinking affectionately at the little she-cat. "She learned from the best."

Ignoring the older tom's pride, Slatefur turned to Owlfeather. "How did Berrypaw do?"

Berrypaw sat up straight and curled his tail around his paws, heart hammering against his ribs. When he had been hunting, he had not even noticed Owlfeather's presence. He had forgotten all about the competition and the fact that he was being watched, focusing all his energy on locating and catching prey. There was no telling what Owlfeather had observed, or what he had missed, since he had been absent for some reason during the first part of Berrypaw's quest.

"When it comes to stalking, Berrypaw seems to have adopted his own style." Owlfeather meowed delicately, watching Slatefur's reaction carefully. "It's almost like watching a StormClan cat hunt."

"He does what works for him." Slatefur said evenly, expression unreadable.

"I hunt like a StormClan cat?" Berrypaw asked, puzzled. He stalked like any other HollyClan cat… or so he thought. It had been a long time since he had actually seen another cat demonstrate hunting technique. Slatefur had always focused more on having him drill until he could move silently. Form didn't seem to be as important, so long as his pawsteps were silent and he ended up with prey at the end of it all. Perhaps he did look a little different.

Owlfeather shrugged. "It's just something I noticed. You may want to work on getting to your prey faster, Berrypaw. You'll never catch squirrels or rabbits moving like that."

"Yes, Owlfeather." Berrypaw said respectfully. He wondered why Slatefur had not said anything about this to him about his stalking? His mentor never hesitated to point out when he was doing something wrong.

Bearpelt got to his paws with a yawn. "Well, now it's time for us to head back. I believe some of us have some work to do." A mischievous gleam appeared in his eye.

"Yeah, yeah." Slatefur grumbled. He scooped up Littlepaw's two birds to help the apprentices carry the load back to camp, but the other two warriors ignored the prey and started off immediately for home, tails held high and whiskers quivering with amusement.

"What were they betting?" Wingpaw wondered aloud, gazing after them.

"Slatefur doesn't look too happy, whatever it is." Berrypaw meowed guiltily. Maybe if he had hidden his prey in a more secure location the old tom would not be looking so aggravated.

"Loser has to take night patrols for three days and clean the elders' den by himself." Littlepaw answered with undisguised glee. "Can you imagine old Slatefur being scolded by Tigerfang and Beaktooth?"

"They won't bother him. He's almost as old as they are." Berrypaw snorted.

"I don't think _anyone_ is as old as Beaktooth! He's the oldest thing in the forest." Wingpaw joked. Berrypaw shot her a scandalized look, taken aback by her disrespect toward their elders. She was always so prim and perfect whenever there were warriors around. She knew all the answers to every question and worked hard to please everyone. It was a shock to hear something so rude come out of her mouth.

With a jolt, Berrypaw became conscious of the fact that he was thinking how Slatefur would want him to think. Not like a carefree apprentice. Something like that should be funny, but he felt singularly un-entertained by the she-cat's cheek. A moon ago he would have found it hilarious. Had he changed so much?

"Come on." Littlepaw head-butted her sister playfully. "We're being left behind."

The three apprentices unhurriedly gathered all their prey together and tottered off after their mentors. They were not in a huge hurry. Camp wasn't going anywhere.

As he watched the two sisters padding side-by-side in front of him, Berrypaw felt a stab of envy. When he returned to camp, he would have no littermate to share the events of the day with. He would curl up, alone, and sleep like a stone, as he did every night.

_Will Mapleheart and I ever be that close?_ He wondered. They were still siblings, after all. But picturing his well-respected, powerfully-built sister, he doubted it. They were just too different.

How would she have reacted upon finding an intruder? When Berrypaw thought about it, he knew that she would have dealt with it bravely. She would have tossed the whole contest aside and tracked down the intruder to chase it off of their Clan's land. She was a brave and noble warrior... and he was just a little, untalented apprentice.


	12. StormClan: All Apprentices

**Author's Note: Sorry for the delay. ^^; I have a lot to make up for, so I'll be posting the next two chapters as soon as I finish them. **

* * *

><p><strong>All Apprentices…<strong>

The air was still within the forest. A bird twittered cheerily on a low branch, unaware of the small silver she-cat creeping up on it.

Willowpaw's leafy green eyes glittered hungrily in the sunhigh sunlight, but she maintained strict control of herself and stayed put at the base of the tree, completely honed in on her prey. Against the grayish-brown bark of the cedar tree, she was nearly invisible. The only thing Graynose could see of her was the tips of her ears and the dark bull's-eye pattern on her flank.

Filled with as much anticipation as his apprentice, Graynose watched the bird. It was a plump finch, lazily enjoying the warmth of the season before such things as defending territory and competing for a mate became imperative in a bird's life. It began preening its wing feathers, making sure each one was cleaned thoroughly before hunkering down and giving another sharp chirp, as though assuring itself that it was indeed alone and king of this small swathe of trees.

Each moment was agony waiting for the self-absorbed puff of feathers to come low enough for Willowpaw to catch it. This was the worst part of StormClan's hunting techniques, and it quite often ended in failure when dealing with birds. Waiting for rabbits or weasels out on open land was simple enough. They had to return to or leave their dens sooner or later. Same with mice. But birds… birds were an aggravating creature to wait for. Oftentimes they simply flitted about happily out of reach for far too long, leaving frustrated cats to gaze up at them with empty bellies. They were simply impossible to creep up on. Unlike mice, birds relied on sight rather than scent and sound. And while StormClan cats could blend in well with the open, craggy rocks higher up on their mountain home, here near the base nearly all of them stuck out like a bluebird in a crow's nest.

In the blink of an eye the hunt had ended.

The finch decided it had wasted enough time on its perch and shot off deeper into the forest. Willowpaw's gaze followed it as it disappeared into the darkness, completely crestfallen.

"Don't look so down." Graynose called, emerging from his hiding place behind a clump of tall grass. "There was nothing you could have done better there. He just wouldn't leave his tree, would he?" As usual, the warrior's laid-back attitude seemed to relax the apprentice, although she still looked miffed.

"I could have done something if we could climb." She said wistfully, staring up into the branches.

"StormClan cats can't climb, unfortunately." Graynose meowed ruefully. It was a strange dilemma that the cats of his Clan faced. They were not afraid of heights. They were used to looking down on the world below from their lofty mountain home, but there was something about trees that didn't seem… stable. Every StormClan apprentice gave tree-climbing a try at one point or another, whether out of pure curiosity or peer pressure from a denmate. All were happy to have four paws on solid ground and by the end of the ordeal, not too keen on returning to the treetops. Leave HollyClan cats to the trees.

"Have you tried?" Willowpaw pressed.

"Have you?" Her mentor countered.

"Not yet." Willowpaw said defensively.

"Feel free to try. And tell me how it goes." Graynose said mischievously.

Willowpaw looked up at the cedar, taking in its smooth bark and shifting branches above. Because he had suggested she do it, Graynose knew Willowpaw suspected some sort of trickery. He wondered if he had perhaps toyed with her one too many times. "Maybe some other time." She said at last.

"Alright then." Amusement colored Graynose's tone. "The birds here rarely come down to the ground. There's not enough undergrowth or leaf litter to make them happy. What you might have an easier time catching though are squirrels. You'll see those more in Leaf-fall and Greenleaf."

"Why do we have to keep practicing this?" Willowpaw meowed, discouraged. "We've come here for several days and gone home empty-pawed every single time."

"I've told you before. This is our primary source of prey whenever the weather is cold and everything is hiding away in dens for the winter." Graynose said patiently. When she was worked up, Willowpaw tended to get irritated about things that didn't make sense to her.

"But we're not forest hunters." Willowpaw grumbled. "We can't stalk, and no one seems to want to learn how." She shot Graynose an accusing look, like it was his fault.

"Blame generations of mountain living, not me." Graynose protested. "If you want to be the first StormClan cat since Stormstar to stalk like a HollyClan cat, be my guest. I can only teach you what I know."

Willowpaw had the sense to look chastened. "I'm sorry Graynose." She said sheepishly. "It just frustrates me that we can't utilize this territory as well as a… a HollyClan cat could."

"You're not the only one." Graynose assured her, whiskers twitching. "That's why we're here, you know. I'm learning as much as you."

"Oh."

"Don't feel bad." He flicked her shoulder with his tail. "We're going to have to work on actual stalking if we want to catch the prey around here." Stalking was a skill that StormClan cats understood how to do, but rarely used for three quarters of the season-cycle. It was an instinct for all cats, of course. It was a mystery to Graynose what he could be doing wrong. All he knew was moving felt risky to him. His pawsteps felt heavy, and he felt as though each stalk of grass he brushed against might alert his prey to his presence. It was always a high-adrenaline moment when he decided to attempt stalking, but he invariably fell into his normal hunting patterns by hesitating too long. Perhaps he was too old to change. But maybe his apprentice could learn something that would help the Clan. Something they were too stubborn to bother figuring out.

The general StormClan thought on stalking was that it was a HollyClan skill. Only a HollyClan cat could perfect it with their soft pads and careful movements. The complaints Graynose had always heard growing up were that StormClan cats were too pale-furred to hide in the forest, too big to be stealthy, and too hard-pawed to step lightly. These things were said with pride. Like forgetting their roots in HollyClan was a _good_ thing, something that brought them closer to StarClan. It was completely ridiculous, and Graynose was determined to teach _someone_ to think logically. A good skill that will benefit the Clan should not be shunned just because of its origins.

"How are we going to do that?" Willowpaw looked at him quizzically. "You don't know how. It'll take us _ages_ to figure it out without someone to show us the right way."

"It might take awhile." The warrior admitted. "But I'm sure we can figure something out to show the Clan. Unless…" Graynose trailed off, gazing up at the trees. "Maybe we don't need to stalk like HollyClan."

"You're not even making sense, Graynose." His apprentice grumbled, pawing listlessly at a small pinecone.

"You know how we jump for birds whenever we see them near the peak?" Graynose asked excitedly, his tail sticking straight up. He had the perfect idea!

"The few times we see them, yeah." Willowpaw said.

"Why don't we do that here?"

"They would see us coming. And we can't jump as high as a tree branch." Willowpaw meowed, looking at the white tom as though he were insane. He wondered if maybe it would have been wiser to bring this idea up with a fellow warrior first.

"But what if we worked on becoming better jumpers first?" Graynose pressed. "No cat has ever worked on leaping as a skill. What if we learned to jump as high as the lowest branches on trees?"

"You think we could?" Willowpaw's eyes were narrowed. At least he had her attention.

Graynose shrugged. "We won't know until we try, now will we? Will you be a test mouse with me?" He knew that his theories may be proven wrong, but he didn't want to be the only cat jumping around like a fool in the forest.

"Do I have a choice?" She pulled a face.

"I won't force you to do this Willowpaw." Graynose said gently, somewhat disappointed. He did not want her to do anything she wasn't willing to do. When she had been given to him as his second apprentice, he had been charged with teaching her the skills of a StormClan cat. Not using her as a tester for his silly ideas, no matter how important he deemed them to be.

"Well, I would like to try it if you think we can turn it into a new hunting technique…" Willowpaw meowed slowly after a short pause. Graynose could tell she was torn between doing as her mentor asked and not appearing like some sort of oddity among her denmates like he was. Willowpaw was a smart cat, but brains didn't do you any good when everyone around you thought you were soft in the head.

"Great!" Graynose's tail curled up with glee. "We'll meet out here every day for the next half moon and practice our jumps. If we can't make progress by then, we'll stop."

"Don't tell the other apprentices I'm doing this with you." Willowpaw sniffed. He had piqued her curiosity, but, as he expected, she wanted nothing to do with it if it made her look strange to her friends.

"As long as you don't tell the other warriors either." Graynose said with a sigh. "I can only imagine what Silverbranch would say if she knew I was trying to teach you something so… so unconventional."

The apprentice's expression softened and she head-butted her mentor affectionately. "If it works, no one can say anything."

"If what works?" Another cat emerged from under a holly bush.

Alarm shot through Graynose, but he relaxed when he recognized the cream-colored pelt of Gizmo. He hesitated for a moment, but decided that there wasn't any harm in telling the kittypet about his idea. "I was just telling Willowpaw that we may be able to work out a new way of hunting for the Clan."

"Keep your mouth shut about it though. It's secret." Willowpaw said curtly. Graynose cringed inwardly at the hostility in her expression when she looked at Gizmo.

Seeming not to notice the she-cat's unfriendliness, Gizmo tipped his head and fixed Graynose in a puzzled blue stare. "Why does it have to be a secret?"

"My Clanmates can be rather…. harsh… when it comes to outlandish ideas." Graynose said reluctantly. He had no doubt that Gizmo knew how his Clan could be toward outsiders, but it was their habit of shunning fresh ideas that he was referring to.

"Yeah, I've noticed." Gizmo sighed. "Cinderfang nearly bit my ear off when I suggested he learn how housefolk treat wounds and illnesses…"

"Why would he want to do that?" Graynose and his apprentice asked in unison, one sounding fascinated while the other was skeptical.

The kittypet blinked at them and explained. "Housefolk always treat their cats for illnesses. I've never been sick in my life. Even things that should cripple a cat can be cured entirely by housefolk. There was a cat I knew who broke his leg, and in a moon he was walking around like it never happened. Of course, we all picked on him while he was limping around in his cast…"

"Well, we have our own way of doing things." Willowpaw growled. "And we don't have to rely on anyone!"

This seemed to confuse Gizmo. "You rely on your medicine cat."

Before his apprentice could deliver a scathing retort, Graynose intervened with, "Well, yes, but what she means is we don't have to rely on twolegs. We're smart enough to take care of ourselves out here, so long as we have our Clanmates. Even if our medicine cat dies, we know StarClan will appoint a new one."

"StarClan? Where is that Clan? I've only seen where HollyClan and RavenClan live, but no one's taken me to the StarClan border. They sound really powerful to have such influence here." Gizmo's question made Willowpaw snort. Graynose had been expecting him to ask at some point, although he had thought the tom might ask Cinderfang, who was much more qualified to answer.

"We don't share borders with StarClan." Graynose explained, shooting his apprentice a warning look. He did not want her making fun of an outsider for not knowing what StarClan was. Young cats always thought that what they were taught should be universal everywhere. Graynose didn't want Gizmo to feel that he should not have asked, because StarClan was a very important subject. Especially to StormClan cats. "StarClan is where Clan cats from all Clans go when they die. They watch over us and protect us, warning us when danger is coming and guiding each of us as we live out our lives."

"When you die?" Gizmo's eyes were huge as twin moons.

"Yes." Graynose nodded. Speaking about StarClan brought his dream back to him. Was that StarClan trying to guide him? He had been through this inner turmoil each time he remembered his dream. He was just a warrior. There were others more qualified for this. But then… he could not turn away from his destiny if this was the path StarClan had laid out for him. He just didn't know what to do… so he would have to simply sit and wait for the meaning to become clear. It was all he could do.

"How do you know?" Gizmo asked, looking around as though he expected StarClan cats to materialize out of the tree trunks around them.

Graynose paused, taking a moment to mull over that question. For a Clan cat believing in StarClan was akin to believing that the sky was blue or the sun would come up every morning. It was so widely accepted that they were always watching over them that from birth most never doubted it. "It's… really kind of something you have to feel to understand." The warrior said at last. There was no way he could think of to make a kittypet understand.

"So you haven't actually seen dead cats?" Gizmo pressed.

"Not seen, no." Graynose answered. "But I feel my ancestors watching over me whenever I'm in need." This past winter he had felt the presence of his two littermates once when he had been sent out to hunt in a howling blizzard. When the weather became too severe to press on, he had felt the warmth of two pelts pressed against his as they guided him to a little abandoned den where he could wait in relative comfort until the storm subsided. Although he saw nothing, he knew that the cats leading him were his two sisters, Mossberry and Whiteheart. Mossberry had been killed by a badger while driving it away from StormClan land, and Whiteheart succumbed to green fever the Leaf-fall before her two kits were apprenticed. Graynose still did his best to make sure Eggpaw and Pinepaw were looked after.

Gizmo seemed unsatisfied with this answer. "But if you don't see them, you can't know that they're there. It might just be your mind playing tricks on you."

"A kittypet _would_ say that." Willowpaw said disparagingly. She made no effort to hide her dislike of the foreign tom.

The kittypet's wide blue eyes reflected his hurt. "Well you don't have to be like that…" He murmured, his gaze falling to the ground.

"He wasn't brought up like we were, Willowpaw." Graynose chided, unable to hide his disappointment in his apprentice. He had hoped she would be more welcoming to Gizmo, even if he was only a temporary guest in StormClan until his wound was fully healed.

"I'm sorry, Graynose." Willowpaw meowed, chastened. Still, he noticed that she did not apologize to Gizmo.

"What are you doing out here anyway?" Graynose endeavored to change the subject, turning his attention back to the strange tom.

"Silverbranch told me to go out with Flynose again today. I'm not sure where he went." Gizmo meowed, casting a nervous glance back in the direction he came from. "He might be upset when he sees I'm not where he left me. I was looking for mice and wandered off a bit…"

"He'll get over it I'm sure." Graynose said, whiskers twitching.

"Flynose can be… difficult… I feel bad for Eggpaw." Willowpaw commented. Everyone knew that Eggpaw and Flynose weren't the best mentor-apprentice pairing in the Clan.

"It's good for him. He needs someone strict to turn him into a good warrior." Graynose said, although he personally felt that Eggpaw deserved someone who actually liked him. Some of the hate-laden glares he'd seen Flynose direct at the fluffy white hairball were downright disturbing.

"If he lives that long." Gizmo said with feeling, drawing purrs of amusement from the two Clan cats.

"Well, why don't we go find him? We can say we distracted you." Graynose offered.

Gizmo shrugged. "I don't care. He isn't my mentor. The most he can do is spray me with slobber when he gets riled up. No one would dare hit a cripple." He said innocently, then looked shyly at his paws. "If it's not too much trouble though… I'd be interested in joining those training sessions of yours."

"Is your leg well enough for that?" Willowpaw asked shrewdly.

"It's well enough to go hunting. So I assume so." Gizmo said, twisting around to examine his back leg. Besides a few vibrant pink markings, it looked like any other leg. If Graynose didn't know any better, he would say the wound was fully healed. Yet if that were the case, Cinderfang would have informed Ivystar and the StormClan leader would have had him escorted to the border already.

"I don't mind if you do. Just don't strain yourself." Graynose meowed, noting his apprentice's sour face. Perhaps some time in the presence of an outsider would make her more sensitive to the feelings and beliefs of others. It was a lesson too few StormClan cats took the time to learn these days.

"Great!" Gizmo's ears perked up.

"Now let's find Flynose before he has a stress hairball." Graynose joked. "Lead the way Gizmo. Willowpaw, feel free to hunt if you spot something interesting. We'll see if Flynose wants to form a border patrol with us and use the rest of the day to go over our history with HollyClan."

"Yes, Graynose." The two cats chorused. Gizmo set off at a brisk pace through the strip of forest, heading toward the flatter lands near RavenClan's border. His limp was barely noticeable. To Graynose, his step seemed to be lighter and he carried himself with more assurance than he had seen of the kittypet tom during the majority of his stay. Perhaps learning Clan ways was teaching him to be more independent and self-confident.

Willowpaw kept up easily, eyes flicking this way and that as she remained alert for prey or hidden dangers. At times, each of the other cats would pause and cast quick looks at Graynose, as though waiting for a command or instruction of some kind. In Willowpaw the act was unconscious, something she had simply grown used to doing during their training sessions so that she wouldn't miss any subtle signals during training. For Gizmo, it was entirely conscious. The trust in his eyes made Graynose slightly uncomfortable. Although he hadn't intended to, he had managed to pick up a second apprentice.


	13. RavenClan: Feathers and Swans

**Feathers and Swans**

Sunlight reflected dazzlingly off of Yewstar's sleek golden pelt, causing her to arch her back and let out a small grunt of pleasure. The meadow was awash in gold and green light, with the season's first few butterflies flitting sluggishly from flower bud to flower bud in the hopes of finding some early nectar to fill their bellies. Yewstar flicked her ear in irritation as one of them fluttered too close to her ear.

"It likes you. That means you must be a sweet cat!" Liontail said, watching the bright yellow insect glide away to find a more stationary perch.

"Oh really? Does that mean the rest of you are all sour?" Yewstar's whiskers quivered mischievously. While Liontail was half her age, she found him extremely easy to get along with. He never allowed himself to be intimidated by any cat, even if they were of a higher rank than he, while at the same time was not disrespectful in any way. He treated every cat like an equal.

"Not at all." Liontail purred. "That just means you're the sweetest." Beside his mentor, Leopardpaw was looking at Yewstar with a thoughtful expression, as though debating whether or not to believe Liontail's interpretation of the butterfly's choice of ear.

"Tell that to Crowpaw and Robinpaw." Sagefrost said wryly from her other side. "If you had to face her in the training area, you wouldn't think so. I don't think Crowpaw will ever be the same."

"I had to make it challenging." Yewstar retorted, although somewhat guiltily. That morning she had gone to assess the battle skills of the two young she-cats, only to get a little carried away herself and inflict Crowpaw with a shallow scratch on the bridge of her nose. She had misjudged the distance between them and instead of flashing her paw in front of the black apprentice's face, she had caught her with her claws. Apparently Smokepatch had instructed the new deputy to never let the RavenClan leader live anything down, because he had not missed a chance to rib her for it.

"So challenging it scarred her for life." Leopardpaw piped up.

The golden she-cat scowled at him. "Just wait till it's your turn."

"Run Leopardpaw!" Liontail yowled gleefully, streaking away. "Race you to the Duck Pond!"

"No fair!" Leopardpaw wailed indignantly, thundering after his mentor. At the time she had assigned Leopardpaw to Liontail it had been merely because she knew Liontail would treat him fairly, but the two toms were extremely similar in both build and personality. It was a match made in StarClan.

"They're going to scare away all the prey." The huff came from a clump of grass in front of them. An instant later, Featherfur's flat face poked out to glare at the two remaining cats. She had circled back from her point at the front of the patrol to make her disapproval known.

"Have you seen any prey Featherfur?" Sagefrost queried lightly. The patrol had gradually become less and less intent on locating prey as time went on and they had seen neither hide nor hair of any edible morsel.

"No. Because you all keep scaring it off." She snapped back.

Yewstar simply watched this interaction between her deputy and Featherfur calmly. The brown she-cat had never been particularly fond of Sagefrost's whimsical, kittenish attitude toward everything. However, ever since his appointment as deputy, she had become highly irritable whenever he was around. Yewstar could practically read her mind when she saw the resentment in her expression.

_How could she pick him over me? He's such a child. And he doesn't even attempt to keep the cats under him out of trouble. I could do so much better! I've been watching and learning everything I can about leading. Sagefrost… how could she pick him?_ As RavenClan's leader, Yewstar understood all of her Clanmates in ways any ordinary warrior could never understand. Featherfur in particular, though, had always been easy for her to understand. This was partially because the she-cat was so vocal about her opinions on everything, and also because Yewstar had been much the same way as an apprentice and young warrior.

"We'll catch something, Featherfur." Sagefrost assured her, eyes darting nervously to his leader as he spoke awkwardly to the irritable cat. He was unsure how to deal with this sort of confrontation. It was why Yewstar had selected both of them for this patrol. They both had things that they needed to work out, and the faster, the better.

"Why am I even on this patrol if all we're going to do is goof off?" Featherfur fumed, rounding on Yewstar.

The golden tabby took a deep breath. Most leaders would immediately rebuke a warrior for speaking to them in such a way. "Because I told you to come with us." She said simply. "Is there a problem?"

Pale green eyes met golden. "…No, Yewstar."

Sagefrost kept his eyes rooted to his paws. To cheer him up, Yewstar gave him a hearty nudge and said, "Don't let her push you around Sagefrost. Next time she does make her clean the elders' den. It'll be funny."

Seeing the brown she-cat's eyes darken, Sagefrost meowed hastily, "That's alright Yewstar. We were being rather loud."

"Clan leaders are never loud." Yewstar sniffed. She was ready for a witty reply, so when Sagefrost merely blinked cluelessly at her she found herself feeling oddly disappointed. One thing she would miss terribly was Smokepatch's droll humor and sharp tongue. Sagefrost just couldn't match his ingenious retorts.

"Never loud. My tail." Featherfur muttered under her breath, only to flinch back at Yewstar's hard stare. "Er… I mean… Every cat makes mistakes."

"Yewstar!" Leopardpaw and Liontail interrupted the stinging rebuttal Yewstar was getting ready to deliver. Their tails were bushed up behind them and their eyes were wide with alarm.

"What is it?" Yewstar asked, immediately alert to their unease.

"A pair of swans." Liontail panted, coming to a halt.

"They're huge!" Leopardpaw exclaimed, circling the warriors restlessly.

"Are they nesting?" Yewstar demanded, worried. As an apprentice, a pair of swans had created a nest in one of her Clan's most prolific fishing spots. They were extremely aggressive birds, especially once their eggs were laid. One of Yewstar's Clanmates had been bludgeoned to death by the swans' blunt beaks, which resulted in Cinderstar declaring the area off-limits until the beasts left. It had taken nearly all spring for the beasts to move on. For RavenClan cats desperately awaiting relief from the Leafbare food shortage, this was a lifetime. And yet no one was willing to risk lives trying to drive them off after that incident.

Liontail nodded vigorously. "They're scraping together a nest right now."

"One of them _chased_ us!" Leopardpaw said incredulously. He seemed thunderstruck. The realization that some birds would try to hunt down cats obviously rocked him to his core.

"We have to get rid of them now." Featherfur said officiously. "Before the female lays eggs."

Yewstar was silent, gazing out at the rippling grass in front of her. They needed to act fast if they were to scare them away. Once the swan laid her eggs, that was it. But would five cats be enough to drive the big birds off?

Swans were different from foxes or badgers. Foxes and badgers both relished the chance to kill a cat. Foxes considered them prey while badgers considered them to be sport. Swans just wanted a safe place to raise their young, a sentiment Yewstar could relate to. And yet they could not afford to have the big creatures cutting off vital food sources. Even in Greenleaf the loss of a single mouse-length of territory effected how much prey was in the fresh-kill pile.

Featherfur was right. The sooner they got rid of the swans, the better. She opened her mouth to tell her Clanmates what she wanted to do, but changed her mind at the last moment and asked, "What do you think we should do, Sagefrost?" Despite her rising urgency, she was curious to see how the younger tom would solve this issue.

"Me?" His eyes widened.

Featherfur snorted, but Yewstar nodded encouragingly.

"W-well… it might be safer to go back and get more cats." He stammered quickly. Featherfur glared at him.

"More cats might make this more confusing." Liontail pointed out. "I think we have enough cats to scare them away."

"Do you think Leopardpaw is ready for something like this?" Yewstar fretted, looking the spotted brown apprentice up and down. The young cat was certainly lean and powerfully built. Not being his mentor though, she was willing to rely on Liontail's judgment.

"He'll be fine. He's quick enough on his paws." Liontail meowed proudly. His apprentice glowed at the praise.

"I don't know…" Featherfur said doubtfully.

"Liontail knows him best," Yewstar said with finality. "The two of them will stay together anyway. I have a plan." All four cats turned their undivided attention to her. She paused to organize her thoughts, and then began explaining her idea. "Liontail and Leopardpaw will lure the male swan away while the rest of us disassemble the nest and frighten off the female. Simple."

"What about the female?" Sagefrost asked nervously, none too thrilled with this idea.

"She won't be very aggressive until she has eggs." The golden leader explained. Butterflies formed in her stomach, causing her to doubt herself. She swallowed, her mouth dry, and added, "And even the most aggressive creatures would think twice before messing with three angry cats. All we need is for Liontail and Leopardpaw to keep the male busy for long enough. I don't want to be clobbered by two of the things…"

"They're so big though…" Featherfur murmured. Although Yewstar knew that she was not completely sold on the idea, the brown warrior would do what she was told no matter what. Featherfur was logical, not cowardly.

"Just don't get pecked on the head." Yewstar warned her Clanmates, sadness flowing through her as she pictured the crumpled form and strangely misshapen skull of the fallen warrior from her youth. Thickfoot had been his name.

"We'll be careful, Yewstar." Sagefrost sounded determined, although somewhat shaky. It occurred to Yewstar that the tabby had only had the chance to fight enemy warriors in the past. Warriors would always refrain from maiming or killing their rivals. It was in the Code. Swans, however, had no code. The other creatures of the forest paid no heed to the ancient ways of Clan cats, just as cats would pay little attention to the customs of mice.

"Good. If any of you feel like your life is threatened in any way, just retreat. Even if we have to run away and regroup, don't feel bad about doing this. You're all more important than a mouthful of fish." Yewstar said sternly, fixing each of her cats in a fierce gaze to drive the point home.

"I'm not going to let some big bird take me out." Liontail snorted.

"You may not have a choice in the matter." Featherfur said realistically.

"You don't have to be so negative about it…" Sagefrost interjected reproachfully before Liontail could respond.

"Come on, you lumps." Impatience crept into Yewstar's tone. "Liontail, lead us to where you saw them. When I signal, try to lure one away without the other. Leopardpaw, I don't want you to jump in unless it gets too close to Liontail. Your job is as a momentary distraction if things don't go as planned."

The apprentice and orange tabby nodded. Excitement glittered in their eyes despite the danger of the situation they would be in. Younger cats always saw things like this as an adventure. Yewstar wished she could share their enthusiasm and certainty that things would work out fine. Sagefrost was also impatient to get started, even if he was a little nervous.

The former hunting patrol moved stealthily through the tall grass surrounding the pond. A single early cricket gave a few tremulous chirps here and there, pausing as though waiting for a response, only to continue uninterrupted. It was too early in the season for his cricket friends to chorus back to him. It was too early in the season for most things yet, and the result was a rather unsettling silence. The ducks and frogs had not yet returned to lend their voices to the cacophony of swamp noise that permeated the air in late Newleaf and Greenleaf.

Yewstar's ears swiveled toward the water at the sound of water splashing. Ripples fanned out from a point near the middle of the pool, and she relaxed. Just a fish.

"Here." Liontail led them through a small tunnel of rushes and reeds. Yewstar recognized the spot immediately. While the Clan had the whole pond at its disposal, the cats typically stuck to four main fishing spots, as the water-loving flora around the banks could be extremely difficult to push through. This spot was a personal favorite of Yewstar's, as it was wide enough for several cats to sit side-by-side and fish.

They remained close enough to the reeds in order to observe the swans undetected. Beyond a thin patch of cattails growing out of the water, Yewstar saw them. The nest was being built a little less than a fox-length away from the shore. It was no more than a pile of twigs at the moment and had not yet taken the shape of a true nest. This was just the foundation. The proud parents-to-be were swimming around, dipping their heads underwater to scoop up twigs and other bits of soggy debris to build up the structure.

They were… beautiful. There was no other word for it. Snow white bodies ghosting gracefully across the water, dark faces fixed straight ahead and neck arched elegantly as they patrolled their watery domain. It was hard to believe such lovely creatures could be so deadly. Yewstar almost regretted her decision to drive them away.

"Yewstar?" Featherfur's concerned whisper brought her out of her trance. She shook her head lightly and flicked her tail to Liontail. He and Leopardpaw scurried off quickly, circling around and yowling loudly to catch the birds' attention.

One of them immediately propelled itself toward the shore. As a cat, Yewstar could not read the facial expressions of a swan. However, the speed and ferocity of the huge creature as it crossed the water gave a clear message: he meant business. The female began pacing anxiously, keeping one eye constantly on her mate.

"We need to get closer to the nest." Yewstar said quietly to Featherfur and Sagefrost. "Circle around, but stay out of sight until we're close."

The most unnerving thing about swans was that they were completely silent. Even when they were gripped with powerful rage, the most that they could do was hiss menacingly. They did not honk like geese or quack like ducks. There was no way to tell where they were besides the sound of their webbed feet slapping the ground and the rustle of their feathers.

Mud squelched between Yewstar's paws as she snuck along the bank, darting between grass clumps and sometimes crawling through thick patches of grass. The green tendrils grabbed at her, attempting to hold her captive as she struggled past. Behind her, she could hear her Clanmates facing the same dilemma. Luckily, it didn't take long for them to reach the opposite end, where they were closer to the nest.

Across the water, Yewstar fancied that she caught a glimpse of an orange tail rising above the grass. Vegetation quivered as the two cats ran through, then bent and flattened as the swan followed. The chase thus far had been done in a hushed manner, as though everyone were afraid of disturbing the peace of the pond. Now, however, taunts from the warrior and his apprentice began to ring out, provoking the swan into chasing them further and further from his nest.

The female had grown increasingly agitated. Standing tall, she extended her long neck as far as it would go to watch the strange beasts that her mate was chasing off. In her unease, she seemed to doubt the wisdom of making her nest here. But maybe Yewstar was imagining things when she saw a glimmer of unease in the waterfowl's eyes.

"Okay… Sagefrost, you lead her away. Featherfur and I need to destroy the nest. We'll come and help you scare the female once we've gotten rid of the thing." Yewstar ordered. The two warriors were roughly equal in athletic capabilities. It just so happened that Sagefrost was a little jumpier than Featherfur was, and he was also a little afraid of the swans. That would make his paws swift and his reactions quick.

The fluffy tom gave a tense nod and dashed out into the open a few fox-lengths away. "Hey ugly!" He yowled, voice sounding slightly shrill. "Come and get me!"

The swan simply stared at the tom for a moment, apparently startled. All at once she rushed the bank, neck arched aggressively and wings outstretched slightly to make herself seem bigger. Sagefrost was off like a rabbit with the big bird waddling after him. Now was their chance!

Yewstar didn't hesitate to abandon her hiding place and bound onto the damp hill of swamp debris. It was all tightly packed together, but by digging her claws into it she could tear chunks off. Beside her, Featherfur did the same. Each she-cat worked frantically to make sure there would be no trace of the nest. _It's so huge!_ Yewstar thought to herself. She was glad normal birds' nests weren't so large. If it fell onto a cat from the treetops it would surely break something.

"Yewstar!" The cry was full of terror. It was Sagefrost.

"Keep going." Yewstar told Featherfur before launching herself across the small stretch of water and tearing along the path of flattened grass that would take her to her deputy. The trail of the two creatures snaked back and forth, leading the RavenClan leader to a rotten, blackened tree. Only the main trunk was still intact, although a few thin branches still clung on.

Halfway up the trunk was Sagefrost, green eyes wide with alarm as he began to slide down. No matter how much he dug in his claws the slippery bark always gave way. There were no branches for him to roost on safely. Below, the swan was reaching out to him, her beak parted to release a steady hiss of anger.

Yewstar countered her hiss with her own, creeping slowly forward and feeling her tail bush out behind her. The bird's hostile sounds cut off instantly as she turned to face the new threat. All three creatures were still for a moment.

Then Sagefrost lost his grip.

He landed right on the swan's backside, a flailing mass of claws and fur. The unfortunate bird's shock was evident, even if she could not express it with a honk or squawk of alarm. She flew forward, slapping Yewstar with her wings in her panic. Flattening herself to the ground, the she-cat watched breathlessly as the swan disappeared into the swamp grasses. The blow had been startling, but not harmful.

"She ran away." Sagefrost meowed, sounding dazed.

"Are you alright?" Yewstar rose shakily to her paws, knowing how close to serious injury she had come. Had the bird been enraged and not afraid, she knew that she would have felt the savage stab of a beak rather than the cushioned blow of a feathery wing.

"I'm fine. Is she gone?" Sagefrost gave himself a shake. Besides sounding slightly winded, he appeared to be fine. Bits of rotten bark still clung to his thick pelt, making him look like some sort of crazy swamp-dwelling hermit.

"Come on, let's find out." Yewstar trotted after the frightened waterfowl with her deputy in tow.

"What happened?" Featherfur was waiting for them once they emerged from the grassy forest.

"Sagefrost jumped it from behind and it ran away from us. Where did it go?" Yewstar asked, scanning the far bank and seeing no flash of white feathers.

"I'm not sure. It took off and I saw it soar off in the direction Liontail and Leopardpaw went." Featherfur said worriedly. "I didn't see if they left or not. I hope they're okay."

"We're fine!" A call rang out from across the pond. An orange tabby and brown spotted face poked out of a clump of reeds. "They took off. You guys scared that other one good!"

"The nest is completely gone." Featherfur reported, flicking her tail to indicate a now smooth patch of water where once a pile of debris had protruded.

"Good job everyone." Yewstar felt relief wash over her. She realized that she had been tense this entire time. "Especially you, Sagefrost. It was brave on you to jump it from behind like that." No cat but Sagefrost saw the RavenClan leader shoot him a conspiring wink.

"You jumped on that huge thing?" Leopardpaw asked incredulously. The apprentice's eyes were enormous as he gazed at Sagefrost.

Yewstar stifled a purr. She knew in a few days she would find Moonwing's litter of kits playing 'Swan Attack' or some such nonsense, where one kit would pretend to be Sagefrost and then the others would all pretend to be swans, which the kitten who was playing the deputy would defeat all the swans single-pawed.

"Er, yeah. In a manner of speaking." Sagefrost said awkwardly, although Yewstar saw his eyes begin to sparkle with mischief when he saw how he could use this silly rumor that Yewstar started to his advantage. Only the two of them would get the joke. "I jumped down on it from that tree over there." He nodded toward the dead thing sticking up in the middle of the marshland. Despite the height of the grass, the top of the rotten tree was still visible.

"How did you climb that thing? Isn't it slippery?" Suspicion colored Featherfur's voice. She was aware of her leader's tendency to lie and embellish stories heavily. But she could not refute that something had frightened the swan away. Their explanation was as believable as anything.

"Amazing what you can do when you're being chased." Sagefrost said sheepishly.

"I saw him climb it. Just like a squirrel." Yewstar meowed.

"I guess having something jump on you from so high would scare anything into running away." Liontail said, sounding both thoughtful and amused. "Although I wasn't sure any RavenClan cat could climb."

"We all have claws, don't we?" Yewstar rolled her eyes. She climbed a tree every time she wanted to make an announcement. It was true that there were very few trees on RavenClan land, however. Even fewer clumps of multiple trees together.

"What do we do now?" Leopardpaw asked restlessly. His run through the reeds had not been enough to quell his nearly endless supply of energy.

"We work on your fishing." Liontail cuffed his ear playfully.

After the excitement, returning to normal Clan functions seemed a little dull. But unlike Leopardpaw, Yewstar was just happy they were safe and was eager to return to normal Clan life. Even if that meant she got to watch a training session that she got to see a million times over the course of her being leader.


	14. HollyClan: StormClan Nursemaid

**StormClan Nursemaid**

"I can't believe Blackriver agreed to something like that." The words echoed throughout camp, spoken from the mouths of multiple cats. All eyes were on the nursery, where an unfamiliar gray she-cat was sitting. She was bigger than a HollyClan warrior and was possessed of a certain radiance that could only be found in the bearing of a single Clan: StormClan.

"It's true." Littlepaw meowed in awe, transfixed by the StormClan cat. "She's beautiful. I thought StormClan cats being prettier was just a myth."

Four of the apprentices were lounging outside of their den, going over Clan gossip for perhaps the thousandth time. Berrypaw and Duckpaw were waiting for Squirrelfoot, who had been instructed to go over some of their basic tree climbing skills. Wingpaw and Littlepaw had just come off of an early morning patrol and were sharing a sparrow between them.

"She isn't even the prettiest." Duckpaw remarked. The gray and white tom was one of the older apprentices and had attended several gatherings in the past.

"There's nothing special about her other than the fact that you could see her coming from six tree-lengths away." Berrypaw snorted derisively. While he did agree that her appearance was rather striking, it seemed to him like hunting with a pale pelt like that would only make things difficult. He was also used to the more earth-toned coloration of his Clanmates, and the fact that the StormClan cat was so different only made him uneasy and slightly aggravated. She didn't need to be here.

Two sunrises ago a StormClan warrior by the name of Graynose had come to HollyClan's camp to see Howlingstar. Apparently one of the queens in his Clan had died kitting and the Clan's only other female close to kitting had not yet begun producing milk. He told them that the kittens were getting weaker by the second and they needed someone to nurse them while they waited for the other queen to start producing her milk. According to the tom, that would happen in only a few days. Howlingstar was a kind leader and of course he would not let innocent kits die, but it was convincing his daughter, Blackriver, to donate her milk that was the trouble.

Berrypaw had never been fond of Blackriver. She was the polar opposite of Meadowlark, who was as laid-back and self-centered as a cat could be. Blackriver was a strict she-cat, which made it all the more surprising that she had taken the frivolous Squirrelfoot as a mate and produced two spunky she-cats: Littlepaw and Wingpaw.

Through some miracle of StarClan, Blackriver's milk had not dried up once her kits were weaned. At least, not completely. This was because she was nursing another kit, one that was not hers. Berrypaw had never really thought about it, but the kit was Slatefur's… although the old tom seemed to have disowned the meek little scrap. He often heard Wingpaw and Littlepaw speaking in disapproving of his mentor's behavior toward his own flesh and blood, but he could say nothing on the matter. He wasn't involved as they were.

It had taken a long time for Blackriver to begrudgingly accept. From what Berrypaw had heard from his Clanmates, she had been utterly against the idea when she first heard it. Blackriver was a strong-willed she-cat and fiercely loyal, which made it difficult for her to offer milk from her own body to kits that would one day threaten the livelihood of her Clanmates. Maybe they would even clash with her own kits someday. Yet as loyal as all Clan cats were to their respective Clans, each and every one of them would bow to the higher power of the Code. _Every warrior makes an effort to save kits in danger, be they loner, kittypet, or enemy Clan. Kits are sacred and are to be protected by all. _

And that was why Snowbriar was here. In Berrypaw's mind, she could not leave soon enough.

"She doesn't need to hover around the nursery like that. Blackriver knows what she's doing." He grumbled ill-temperedly, glaring at the outsider from across camp. "If some of our kits had to go to another Clan for help, we'd want someone there watching them, too." Wingpaw pointed out lightly.

"She can't even really go in because of Palekit." Littlepaw said, half amused and half sad. "He hides behind Blackriver whenever anyone else comes into the den."

"What happened to make him so scared?" Berrypaw asked, forgetting his animosity toward the strange she-cat in favor of his curiosity about the Clan's only kit. When Berrypaw had become an apprentice the little tom had been less than a moon old, and that was all he had seen of him. All he knew was the kit's lineage and that he was a sandy sort of color. He realized that he should have noticed the kit's absence throughout camp. He would be about a moon and a half by now, still young, but plenty old enough to totter around and cause trouble.

"Nothing happened to him. That's just how he is." Littlepaw said, glancing at Wingpaw.

"I think it's because of Brambleheart dying." Wingpaw theorized. "Although it's hard to compare his personality now to his personality then since he was so tiny…"

"Maybe that's just how he's supposed to be. He might just be broken." Duckpaw said. His tone was flat, and he was pawing absently a tuft of feathers that had drifted out of the apprentices' den.

Berrypaw knew that he didn't mean anything by it. Duckpaw's humor could be odd. It was hard to tell when he was just messing around and when he was seriously telling you something. Wingpaw and Littlepaw clearly didn't understand this about their denmate, because they instantly rounded on him, bristling.

"He is NOT broken." Littlepaw hissed.

"How could you say something like that?" Wingpaw asked, sounding more shocked than angry.

Duckpaw looked at them with a puzzled expression. "You sound upset."

Both sisters were speechless.

"He's our _kin_! Of course we're upset!" Wingpaw managed.

"He's teasing you guys, you know. He isn't being serious." Berrypaw sighed, giving Duckpaw a hard stare to let him know he should stop tweaking their whiskers.

"I should hope so." Littlepaw sniffed, tail lashing back and forth.

The two she-cats settled down, but the four apprentices fell into a tense silence. Only Duckpaw seemed unaware of the fact that his Clanmates were displeased with him. He simply sat there, observing his claws as he flexed and un-flexed his paw. Berrypaw briefly wondered what it was that clattered around in that empty head of his and then turned his attention to the two warriors walking toward them.

"Berrypaw, Duckpaw." Squirrelfoot greeted them warmly as he approached. Beside him was Wildbreeze, a brown she-cat with an astonishingly untamed pelt.

"Are we still going to practice our climbing?" Berrypaw asked, confused by the presence of the she-cat. Squirrelfoot was late, which wasn't unusual, but it was unusual for him to bring along another warrior for a tree-climbing lesson. As his name might suggest, Squirrelfoot was an excellent climber and did not require the presence of another to aid in his demonstrations.

"Well… no. There's been a change of plans." Squirrelfoot explained. Berrypaw could tell by the way his ear kept twitching that whatever they were doing today, Squirrelfoot would rather be doing something else.

"We're going out on a hunting patrol with the StormClan cat." Wildbreeze's disdain was evident. Of all the cats in the Clan, Wildbreeze hated StormClan the most zealously for reasons unknown to Berrypaw. He didn't exactly relish the prospect either though.

"We're… babysitting?" Berrypaw was immensely disappointed.

"Not babysitting." Squirrelfoot said with some amusement. "We're guarding Snowbriar. We have to make sure that she doesn't learn anything about our land."

The thought caused Berrypaw to brighten up considerably. He had not thought of it that way before. He took for granted that every step along the forest floor was familiar. It had not occurred to him that a StormClan cat would be as lost as a blind kit without its mother.

"Cheeky furball wanted to hunt." Wildbreeze was speaking angrily, pacing in front of the apprentices. "But StormClan cats are cunning. She told Howlingstar that she wanted to contribute at least as much as she ate to the fresh-kill pile. Everyone knows she just wants to learn our secrets!"

"What secrets?" Wingpaw asked, wide-eyed.

Wildbreeze snorted. "Apprentices!"

"She thinks that Snowbriar is here to scout out our territory so that her Clan can attack from an advantageous position." Duckpaw explained.

"They could do that?" Littlepaw cast a wary glance at the gray she-cat outside the nursery.

Not wanting to see the she-cats become as paranoid as Wildbreeze, Berrypaw said, "Yeah, but even then StormClan cats wouldn't know how to deal with the undergrowth."

"You're right, Berrypaw." Squirrelfoot meowed, whiskers twitching. "But it never hurts to be safe. Now come on you two. While I'm still young."

Duckpaw and Berrypaw got to their paws as Squirrelfoot loped across camp to speak to the StormClan cat. He had said her name was Snowbriar? Although the name was in the familiar Clan style, Berrypaw felt as though it were completely alien.

A sigh escaped his lips as Squirrelfoot padded back toward them, Snowbriar just behind. Although he would probably spend the rest of his life picking their fur out of his claws and licking the wounds they gave him, he knew that he would be expected to be polite to this StormClan cat.

"Snowbriar, this is Wildbreeze," The brown she-cat curled her lip at Snowbriar as she was introduced. Squirrelfoot went on as though he hadn't noticed. "the tabby is Berrypaw, and that gray and white thing is Duckpaw. Oh! And my daughters, Wingpaw and Littlepaw."

"Why am I a thing?" Duckpaw questioned with mock hurt. Squirrelfoot was his mentor, so they poked fun at each other at every opportunity.

"Wow, you nearly forgot us." Littlepaw harrumphed at her father.

"I would never forget you." Squirrelfoot said, aghast.

"They're lovely kits." Snowbriar spoke for the first time after nodding polite greetings to everyone.

"Made 'em myself." Squirrelfoot said proudly, causing his daughters to exchange mortified glances. Their father's jokes could be embarrassing. Berrypaw was glad that his father, whoever he was, never sought him out to humiliate him as Squirrelfoot did to his unfortunate kits.

"Stop embarrassing them and get to hunting." Wildbreeze scolded, nudging the reddish-orange tom toward the camp entrance. "It's what you're good at, isn't it?"

Berrypaw looked back to see Wingpaw rolling her eyes at her father before he fell into step behind Duckpaw at the back of the patrol. Seeing amusement on Snowbriar's features aggravated Berrypaw. If she hung out with Squirrelfoot all day, she would go home and tell her Clanmates about what a goofy bunch of jokers HollyClan cats were!

"Right then. Snowbriar, close your eyes please." Squirrelfoot told the StormClan cat. He looked almost apologetic as he met her bemused gaze. "We can't really let you look around our territory, so we're going to guide you to somewhere in the woods while your eyes are closed."

Snowbriar snorted. "Don't be a kit." Under the two warriors' unwavering stares, she relented, coming to the conclusion that she would have to do as he asked if she wanted to hunt. "Fine." She lashed her tail in annoyance and clamped her eyes shut.

"Keep them closed. I'll be watching." Wildbreeze growled. "Duckpaw, you lead her with your tail and make sure she doesn't fall on her face."

"No promises." Duckpaw said apologetically to Snowbriar, which caused her ears to angle backward in frustration.

"Off we go!" Squirrelfoot took them on a meandering path through the forest. He had gone out of his way to choose the longest, least-traveled path taken by the HollyClan cats. In some places he even took them through thick undergrowth and discreetly formed circles to confuse their guest. To the rest of them it was painfully obvious where they were, but to someone who didn't know the area it would be incredibly bewildering.

Snowbriar kept up surprisingly well, although they did slow their pace a bit to make up for the StormClan cat's lack of vision. She was a rather solidly-built cat and, now that Berrypaw could get a closer look at her, he saw that her face was crisscrossed with old scars, pale white against her light gray pelt. At first he had seen her as a young cat. He knew now that she was probably only a little bit younger than his mother, which was positively ancient to an apprentice. It occurred to him that she must be well-regarded by her leader to have been chosen to look after their beloved kits. She certainly looked as though she was willing to shred someone in their defense.

"Alright. Open your eyes now." Squirrelfoot halted their awkward march forward and turned to face the StormClan cat. They were near the absolute edge of HollyClan territory at this point, somewhere close to the RavenClan border. Squinting through the trees, Berrypaw could make out the sunny landscape beyond where there were no trees to offer shade. The edge of the trees in this direction was treated as an unofficial border, since they didn't really go out of their way to mark a border with no rival Clan on the opposite side. Kittypets were little threat. At most they would wander into the woods for a short amount of time and run back home the first time they heard an unfamiliar sound. Loners could be a problem, but only in large groups. The border here was also somewhat amorphous, since in hard times HollyClan cats would wander closer to twoleg dens, since there was always a steady amount of fat mice living off twoleg trash.

"Was all that walking necessary?" Snowbriar huffed, eyes flying open instantly.

"Absolutely." Squirrelfoot nodded emphatically.

"What's the matter, not used to walking? Does StarClan deliver your mice in a silver bowl?" Wildbreeze jeered.

Snowbriar looked at her sharply, tail-tip beginning to twitch. She didn't bristle or spit, just stared hard at the brown she-cat. There was no doubt that she was offended by the comment and yet she made no scathing reply. She simply gazed at the HollyClan warrior with a silent rebuke in her eyes. Berrypaw was beginning to understand why it was Snowbriar and not someone like Flynose who had been chosen to accompany the kits to HollyClan. Her patience was amazing. If someone had spoken like that to Berrypaw, he knew he would have flown into a rage and probably tried to box their ears in.

"There's no need for that, Wildbreeze." A note of disapproval entered Squirrelfoot's voice. It was the closest Berrypaw had ever seen him to being angry. "Snowbriar is our guest. She may not be from our Clan, but she's deserving of our respect."

Wildbreeze looked meekly at the ground, mumbling a half-hearted apology. She was one of the youngest warriors in the Clan and must have been acutely embarrassed to be told off in front of a cat from another Clan. But knowing Wildbreeze, it wouldn't stop her barbed comments. She was as hot-headed as a cat could be.

"Everyone stay within earshot of me." Squirrelfoot instructed, focusing more on Snowbriar and the apprentices than Wildbreeze. "We'll hunt until the sun begins to set. That should give you plenty of time to do what you wanted, Snowbriar."

"Yes, Squirrelfoot." The apprentices chorused dutifully while the StormClan she-cat gave a curt nod.

Berrypaw wandered off as soon as Squirrelfoot gave them the okay to begin hunting. He no longer struggled when it came to hunting, although he was still not a hunting prodigy like Wingpaw or her father. At least now he knew he could feed himself if he needed to. Squirrels and certain bird species constantly eluded his claws. Mice though, and especially moles, he caught with no difficulty at all. He had never been quick enough to catch more than a glimpse of a rabbit, bobtail flashing white as it disappeared into the forest.

The young cat caught a robin before deciding it was time to move on to another section. Perking his ears and opening his mouth, he tried to catch sight of his Clanmates. There was a flash of orangey-red fur and then the sudden squeal of a rabbit. Satisfied that he knew the general area he could find Squirrelfoot, Berrypaw headed toward the open ground he had seen beyond the forest's boundaries. It was a slightly chilly day, and in the shadow of the tall trees the apprentice could feel his paw pads tingling with cold. It would be nice to escape the shade for a moment and hunt along the tree-line.

Beyond HollyClan's forest was a huge, open space that seemed to stretch on forever to the northwest and to the east. Straight ahead when you exited the trees was twolegplace. It was perhaps a sixth of a day's walk, according to the few warriors who had ventured there. As a rule, Clan cats avoided the place. Some old cats remembered visiting the area in a time of famine. There was even an elder, Tigerfang, who had gotten lost in it for days as an apprentice. He warned any cat who asked about it about the twolegs. Either they would chase a cat away, or they would try and transform the unfortunate feline into a tubby, content kittypet. Among the kits at that time, it had been a horror story. Thinking of it now though made Berrypaw glad that he would never have to go any closer to the ominous gray line of twoleg dens in the distance.

"I've never been so close to Twolegplace." Berrypaw nearly jumped out of his fur at the sound of Snowbriar's voice.

"Watch it!" He hissed angrily, trying to cover up the fact that his pelt was puffed up in alarm. The she-cat was not fooled. Her whiskers twitched in amusement and she shifted her pale blue gaze from Berrypaw to the twoleg nests in the distance.

"Have you ever been there?" Snowbriar asked him.

"Why in StarClan's name would I want to go to Twolegplace?" Berrypaw asked with disdain, giving his chest a few quick licks before twisting around to try and get the fur along his spine to lie flat again.

Snowbriar shrugged. "Curiosity I guess. If I lived so close to it I might have slipped away once or twice to see it."

"Tigerfang says it's just a bunch of thunderpaths and twoleg nests. He said the further you go, the worse it gets… no trees. No grass. Just twoleg garbage." Berrypaw found himself quoting the old, battle-scarred tom.

"Don't you wonder about what's beyond your borders at all?" Snowbriar sounded surprised by Berrypaw's dismissive tone when it came to twoleg territory.

The tabby tom thought about this for a moment, coming to the realization that he had never really given much thought to what was outside his Clan's domain. And if he did, it was to wonder how far RavenClan or StormClan territory extended. "No, not really." He answered finally. "There doesn't seem to be much point in wondering. Clan cats settled here, so there's probably not much worth mentioning out there. It's not like anyone's going to go and see. If someone does, it won't be me." The thought of so much space with no Clan to claim it set the tom's mind to reeling. He had been raised to believe that anywhere that was not in one of the three territories was just a lawless land where any unwary cat could be slaughtered by another with no moral code whatsoever.

"I suppose you are right. StarClan wanted us to live here." Snowbriar nodded, more to herself than to him.

"Have you caught anything yet?" Berrypaw asked rather abruptly, seeing that she was not carrying any prey. As far as he knew she had been sitting here all dreamy-eyed the whole time without doing anything.

"Not yet. I wasn't having much luck in the forest, although I saw plenty of squirrels and birds." Snowbriar admitted with a tinge of embarrassment in her tone.

"Oh." Berrypaw had forgotten about the difference in hunting style. Squirrelfoot hadn't though, he realized. That was why the reddish-orange tabby had brought them to this area. There was plenty of the wide-open space that Snowbriar was used to.

"Would you like to help me hunt?"

The question stunned Berrypaw. Meeting her eyes, the young cat could see from her sheepish expression that the offer was genuine. But she was a warrior. Surely she was able to hunt on her own, even if the territory was unfamiliar? He told her this. "You're a warrior!" He exclaimed. "You don't need _my_ help."

"Well… I think if we work together we can catch a fat rabbit. Maybe two." Snowbriar explained hastily.

He could tell that his incredulous reaction had made her uncomfortable, so he made an effort to compose himself. It was unusual for HollyClan cats to team up on a hunt, so the concept was simply strange to him. And to be asked by a rival Clan cat made the situation all the more fascinating to the apprentice. Outlandish as it was, the prospect of returning home with a rabbit was especially appealing to him, since he had yet to catch one himself. Rabbit meat was also a favorite among HollyClan cats. "A rabbit? Where?"

"I saw one disappearing into the heather over there." The she-cat pointed with her nose to where a small grass tunnel had been formed by their unsuspecting prey. Berrypaw couldn't help but wonder how the rabbit had not attracted the attention of his Clanmates, leaving such obvious signs of its presence like that.

"If you sneak around and make some noise from the other side of this thick patch of grass here, I think it'll come out the same hole. I'll catch it as it comes out." Snowbrair laid out the plan with such ease that it was apparent she had hunted rabbits this way before.

"I'll give it a try. I'm not used to stalking through grass." Berrypaw said reluctantly. He didn't want to admit his shortcomings, but at the same time he didn't want the she-cat to have some overly optimistic impression of his skills.

"I'm sure you'll do fine. You HollyClan cats are supposed to be the best stalkers, right?" Snowbriar's tone was joking. It relieved Berrypaw to know that she didn't put too much stock in the ancient stereotypes.

Berrypaw found that the grass was awfully thick and tangled in places. He had to make a wider circle than he thought to get behind to where Snowbriar had indicated that the rabbit might be. As he worked his way around he caught a strong whiff of rabbit, too strong to be just one. Excitement quickened his pawsteps. Maybe it was a whole nest!

A sudden rustling from nearby caught Berrypaw's attention. He dropped into a crouch and held still, amber eyes unblinking as he watched a ripple in the grass approach slowly. At times it would pause and the sound of munching would reach the tom's ears. One of the rabbits!

With so many layers of intertwined grass stalks, he didn't want to risk moving. He could put a paw one place and then have the grass tremble a fox-length away as a result. So he waited. He was glad that the grass still had a sickly, brownish hue to it from Leafbare. His pale brown pelt would make him blend in perfectly.

The brown cottontail didn't know what hit it.

Berrypaw flinched and cursed inwardly as he cut off the dying creature's final shriek of pain. His first bite had been sloppy.

The following explosion of movement caused Berrypaw to flatten himself in shock. Frightened by the noise, a small herd of deer bolted in panic. One young buck with a broad set of antlers trampled the ground a mouse-length from the cowering apprentice as he passed by, white tail sticking rigidly up as a warning to others. Berrypaw was so alarmed by the appearance of the stag that he didn't notice the stampede of rabbits streaking from the compact mound of grass and heather that he had been skirting so carefully. It was like a flood of rabbits. They ran every which way, into the grass, out into the open, into the forest. Their numbers astonished him so greatly that he didn't even think to try and catch one until the last of the lanky animals was gone from his sight.

Trembling, the young tom hurried back the way he had come, not bothering to disguise his presence anymore. He just wanted to be back in familiar territory, where the ground was dirt and there was nothing tall enough to conceal a huge deer that might crush you with its hooves.

"Berrypaw! Did you see that?" Snowbriar seemed out of breath as she trotted up to him. Her eyes were alight with wonder. "I've never seen so many rabbits! They must have been breeding in this area for… for generations or something. We found a rabbit camp!" The she-cat's purr of amusement was cut short when she realized that Berrypaw looked shaken. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing." He said quickly, dropping his rabbit. "It was just a bit of a shock."

Snowbriar walked up and down the area, examining the mound of grass more closely. "Do you think they'll come back again?"

"I dunno." Berrypaw shrugged. He hoped not. Although he did wonder if he would be able to lure someone like Slatefur out here and scare them all out again. It seemed like a good prank. So long as there weren't any deer lurking about. "Did you catch anything?"

"Oh, yeah. I managed to grab two of them." Snowbriar's tail curled up in self-satisfied way. "Think that makes up for all the prey I've eaten here?"

"Definitely. HollyClan cats are crazy for rabbit." Berrypaw told her.

"You must be a lucky charm or something." Snowbriar shook her head in disbelief. "I've never seen anything like that, nor have I had such a successful hunt. We'll have to hunt together again before I have to go."

"Yeah." Berrypaw agreed, suddenly aware that he was actually having fun. Despite being nearly pulverized, hunting with Snowbriar felt more like getting into mischief with a fellow apprentice than actually working to feed his Clan. It was a feeling that he wished he could feel every time he set paw out of camp. Thinking of Wingpaw and Littlepaw, he began to understand that he _could_.

Looking up at the sun, he remembered that Squirrelfoot had told them that they would be returning when the sun started to set. The golden orb was just past its zenith, which meant his Clanmates would be gathering together for the return journey. "It's time to head back though. Let's go before Wildbreeze comes to hunt you down."

…

Pleasantly full and happy, Berrypaw was dozing lightly in his nest when he was awoken by Wingpaw's breath in his ear. "Berrypaw, wake up. Snowbriar is leaving. She said that she wanted to say good-bye to you before returning to StormClan."

"What?" Berrypaw blinked, instantly awake. His heart sank. _Already?_

Snowbriar was sharing tongues with her Clanmates when Berrypaw approached to say farewell. Flynose wasn't among them. Graynose, the one who had come to beg for help, was there, along with a fluffy, cream-colored she-cat and a sour-faced dark brown tabby tom who looked like he would rather be anywhere but here. The cream-colored cat already had the four kits pressed close to her flank, tail wrapped around them to shield them from the nighttime chill.

"Looks like we won't get our hunt after all." Snowbriar said wryly, rising to her paws as the apprentice drew near.

"It might be a good thing." Berrypaw gave a purr of amusement. "There wouldn't be any rabbits left in the forest."

"You'll have to catch enough for both of us." Snowbriar said. "It was nice hunting with you, Berrypaw. I'll see you at gatherings." Her gaze was drawn to the kits as one of them, a pure white she-kit, let out a wail of unhappiness upon realizing that the she-cat had no milk for her. "We need to go now. The sooner those kits have Redfern's milk, the better."

Each of the StormClan warriors delicately picked up a kit. The white she-kit was quick to mewl her displeasure, but the others hung limp and cooperative in the jaws of their Clanmates. Glancing at the nursery, Berrypaw saw the blue eyes of Blackriver glinting from within. While her expression was hard, he detected a hint of remorse in her gaze as the kits she had suckled for their first few days were taken away. At her paws was a pale tuft of fur, amber eyes stretched wide at the sight of his new denmates being carried away by strangers.

Howlingstar and Shadewing were waiting at the camp entrance with Greenwhisker and Foxclaw. Graynose set his burden down at his paws for a moment to exchange words with the leader and his mate before shrugging his shoulders and continuing out into the forest. The four HollyClan cats fell into step behind the StormClan warriors. Snowbriar glanced back at Berrypaw and raised her tail in a final farewell before she was swallowed by shadow.

Next time they saw each other, they would be rivals again.


	15. StormClan: A Deadly Kitting

**A Deadly Kitting **

Graynose knew as soon as he set foot in camp that something wasn't right.

Snowbriar was pacing restlessly while Cloudflower looked on. Falconclaw, Smokefur, and Darkthorn were sitting outside of the warriors' den sharing tongues, but even from here Graynose could hear the strain in their voices, and they kept casting quick glances at the nursery. Quailear was standing guard in front of the entrance, icy blue gaze unreadable. Unlike the warriors, the apprentices weren't hiding their unease and curiosity. The four young cats were on the far side of camp so as not to be underpaw, looking around as though searching for someone to explain to them what was happening.

A blood-curdling screech rang out. Every eye was on the nursery now.

Without having to ask, Graynose knew what was happening. Mistypool was kitting. And from the grim faces around him, he knew it was not going well.

The fur on the back of his neck spiked up in horror as he dropped the prey he had collected that morning on the fresh-kill pile. He, like everyone else, knew that Mistypool was in no condition to give birth right now. Despite Snowbriar's persistence, the queen had continued to refuse food and dodge those who would try to coax her into eating. Instead of putting on weight she had wasted away even more. The only plump part of her was her belly, ripe with kits.

"How long has this been going on?" Graynose asked the nearest cat, who just so happened to be Blackclaw.

The dark tabby curled his lip. "How should I know? I just got back from patrol."

Graynose gave a snort and trotted over to Snowbriar and Cloudflower. "How long has she been kitting?" He repeated his question. The white tom had gone on a morning hunting patrol and was the last of the other two cats to return. When he had left camp the mood had been light-hearted and pleasant. Now a shroud of uncertainty and worry hung ominously over his Clanmates.

"Since midmorning." Snowbriar answered tersely.

"It's not going well." Cloudflower added unnecessarily.

Hunkering down beside the two she-cats, Graynose waited with the rest of his Clan for the outcome of Mistypool's ordeal. At times the screeching became maddeningly continuous, making the tom want to slam his head into the ground in order to silence the horrible sound. But other times it was eerily quiet. It was during these calm periods that murmurs began to break out among the cats present. Was she dead? Or was it over and the Clan had a healthy litter of kits? Besides Gizmo and Redfern streaking across camp to bring back medicines for Cinderfang or water-soaked moss for the queen, the entire camp was motionless. Nobody ate. Nobody slept. Nobody left. It was as though every cat thought that his or her willpower would be enough to spare the sickly queen and save her kits.

Twilight had descended on silent wings when the medicine cat finally emerged, looking bedraggled and defeated. Cats exchanged dark glances as their fears were confirmed.

"Mistypool has gone to join StarClan." Cinderfang rasped, his voice ringing out across camp. No one was surprised, but a grief-stricken murmur broke out. Beside him, Graynose felt Snowbriar recoil as though she had been bitten by a snake. But the medicine cat wasn't finished. "Her kits, however, are all alive. Three she-kits and a tom."

An instant hush fell over the StormClan cats. All faces turned toward Ivystar. The fluffy she-cat got stiffly to her paws and strode forward, each step heavy with sorrow.

It should have been a joyous occasion for these tiny kits to enter into the world. But now, with no mother, they would not survive. Redfern was the only other queen, and although she was close to kitting, her milk had not begun to flow. If the kits weren't fed soon, they would simply fade away.

"There's no herb you can give them to sustain them until Redfern's milk comes?" Ivystar asked in a hopeless tone. She knew the answer even before she saw Cinderfang shaking his head.

"No herb can replace a mother's milk." He said. "We need to ask the other Clans for help."

Stunned silence greeted his words. Ivystar's eyes narrowed while Silverbranch began to bristle. "How dare you even suggest such a thing? StormClan doesn't crawl to its enemies begging for help!" A few disgruntled yowls of agreement rang up from her Clanmates. Flynose and Blackclaw were the loudest supporters of their deputy's words. The rest of the Clan began talking loudly among themselves.

"You would kill these kits for your mouse-brained pride?" Cinderfang shouted at the she-cat, his voice cracking like thunder throughout camp. A few cats gasped and some crouched down lower. Not many of them had ever seen Cinderfang lose his temper.

"No one would ever endanger kits." Ivystar said quietly. Her Clan had formed a rough circle around their leader, deputy, and medicine cat. They watched with bated breath for the she-cat's decision. She sounded shocked and reproachful as she faced her deputy. "Silverbranch, have you forgotten the Code? Our kits are far more important than our image."

"I was only thinking of the Clan, Ivystar. I'm sorry." Silverbranch bowed her head with genuine shame. Seeing the horror in her leader's eyes had jolted her out of her instinctive hatred toward Clans. She wasn't the only one who was apprehensive, but it was easy to tell from her outburst that she had not considered the fact that the kits were also part of her Clan, quite possibly the _most_ important part.

"Don't blame Silverbranch, Ivystar." Flynose took a step forward, ears angled backward uncomfortably. "I, too, thought of how it would make us look to other Clans to go begging for help before considering the lives of the kits. It's just… hard to know that the lives of our newest Clanmates are hanging on the generosity of HollyClan and RavenClan while we can do nothing." Frustration glittered in his eyes and his tail lashed from side to side. A sympathetic buzz rippled through the cats. Even Blackclaw's head was bowed. None of them wanted to lose those kits.

"I understand." Ivystar said softly, her expression softening and giving way to sadness. "I feel the same way." Her eyes traveled to the nighttime sky above. The sky behind her was just losing its last drops of orange, swaddling all of StormClan in a navy blanket. Every cat followed her gaze to see the first few stars appearing above.

_Mistypool…_ Graynose pictured the silvery queen as she had been before she became pregnant. The she-cat had always been drawn to the nursery, helping to raise Eggpaw and Pinepaw when Graynose's sister had passed. Nobody minded that she rarely hunted. She was an avid daydreamer anyway, so when she did go out her Clanmates often stumbled upon her simply gazing up at the sky or watching the wind ripple through the grass. In a way she had always seemed too fragile to be a warrior. But her death…. it was completely unnecessary.

Heavy with guilt, Graynose wondered if he could have averted this disaster. Had the StarClan cat not told him that he would help her in some way? How could he do that when she was already among the stars? Had he… failed?

"I will go to RavenClan." Cinderfang said, breaking the short, silent vigil. "Someone else should go to HollyClan. We need to get these kits to a queen who can nurse them as soon as possible."

Ivystar stared at him with an unreadable expression. For a split second, Graynose thought she was going to tell him no. The fur along his neck prickled as the two highest-ranking members of his Clan stared each other down. There was a certain… coldness in Ivystar's unlinking eyes that made the white warrior quail. Perhaps things between the cats were not as harmonious as Graynose had been led to believe.

Snowbriar began kneading the ground impatiently. Why didn't Ivystar give the order to go and pick someone to send to HollyClan? There was no time to waste.

"I'll go to HollyClan, Ivystar." Graynose stepped forward. He could see each of his Clanmates shrinking back at the prospect of going into enemy territory alone as a messanger. Silverbranch was the most qualified to go, but Graynose couldn't see her winning the compassion of Howlingstar with her unique form of charm.

"Yes…" Ivystar blinked at him, her eyes clearing. "Yes. Off you go then. Both of you. Hurry back."

Graynose left immediately, streaking out of camp and out onto the slope leading down toward the other territories. When he looked to his left he saw Cinderfang's dark gray form sprinting in the opposite direction, ears perked and alert. It was the most energetic he had ever seen his medicine cat. Of course, fear lent speed to any cat's paws.

The moon was just peeking over the horizon when Graynose came to the border. He had been near the forest at night. It was normally a peaceful, relaxing experience listening to the melodious thrum of crickets and occasional calls of nightjars. In summer cicadas and frogs added their voices to the din. Now the forest loomed silent and threatening in front of him. Shadows pooled at the base of the trees, thick and dangerous. Anything bigger than a fern could conceal an enemy warrior.

The warrior tom felt his paws tingle with unease as he crossed the scent-line, something he had never consciously done in his life without his leader at his back giving the order to advance. Oh, yes. Graynose had been in many fights with HollyClan. He had felt the sting of their claws and the strength of their courage when his Clan had battled bitterly for a single swathe of trees. His Clan had been outnumbered greatly, and StormClan's situation had not changed. They needed more kits. More warriors. This was one of the reasons Mistypool's kits could not be allowed to die.

Graynose did not know where HollyClan's camp was. His best guess was that it would be somewhere near the middle of their territory, so he kept moving deeper and deeper into the heart of the forest. The warrior felt as though the trees were pressing in on him, trying to smother him under their outstretched branches and thick, rough trunks. Looking up at the sky chilled him to the bone. The stars were barely visible through the dense screen of branches. How could his ancestors watch over him through these infernal things?

A sudden scream in the night nearly made his heart stop. Instinctively, he flattened himself to the ground as a screech owl passed overhead. It settled somewhere in the treetops and let out one more ungodly shriek before falling silent. Great StarClan, how did HollyClan kits survive with things like that roaming the territory?

"Keep still."

Graynose inwardly kicked himself. Heart still fluttering like a wounded bird after his scare, he had not heard the HollyClan warrior creeping up on him. He did not attempt to speak at first, knowing that it would be wise to allow his captor to assume control. Enemy cats were always more willing to cooperate when they were not met with angry demands by the cat they found trespassing. He desperately needed this encounter to go well.

"Stand up." The cat said gruffly. It was a deep, somewhat gritty voice. Obviously a tom.

"I don't mean any harm. I'm not here to steal prey." Graynose said as he rose slowly to his paws, turning to face the tom. It was a rather old, gray warrior, lost somewhere between elder and senior warrior. Out of habit, Graynose started sizing him up and debating whether or not he could beat the tom in a fight. Despite the frailties old age wrought on a cat, this warrior was still lean and wiry. He had a rather stern expression and yellow eyes as cold as chips of ice. However, it was the confidence with which he held himself made Graynose feel that this tom could best most cats in any fair one-on-one fight. He did not flex his claws in anticipation or bare his fangs as a threat. No, this tom was completely calm as he gazed quietly at Graynose.

"What _are_ you here for then?" His question was hardly more than a low growl.

"I need to speak with Howlingstar. I don't have time to explain, but it's very important." Graynose said in a rush. He willed the gray cat to understand that time was of the essence.

"Of course it is." The tom grumbled. He turned away and flicked his skinny tail to indicate Graynose should follow. "Well, come on then."

"Slatefur, what's going on?" A black she-cat materialized at the gray tom's side. Graynose recognized her as Shadewing, Howlingstar's mate. They had spoken briefly at a gathering when Graynose was several seasons younger.

"This StormClan cat says he wants to see Howlingstar. He says it's _important_." There was something mocking about the way he said "important", but Graynose didn't say anything. He would not give this HollyClan cat the satisfaction of getting a rise out of him.

"I see." Shadewing said with an understanding nod. "I take it you won't tell us why you're here until you see Howlingstar?"

"Sorry, I need to hurry. The lives of some of my Clanmates hang in the balance." Graynose said apologetically, fidgeting impatiently under the she-cat's green gaze. "Can we go please?"

His brief explanation did nothing to quell the she-cat's curiosity, but she simply said, "Follow me then." She met the gaze of her Clanmate, who curled his lip and gave an ill-tempered growl before falling in behind Graynose to make sure he didn't try to slip away and steal prey or something. He couldn't really blame them for their paranoia, since his Clan would behave much less graciously toward trespassers, but he could not help but feel impatience flutter in his chest as they padded along at a slow trot. Clearly he had not emphasized the seriousness of his situation.

The HollyClan cats scented him long before they saw him. As he pushed through the thick fern tunnel leading into the Clan's excellently concealed camp, he was met with many glowing pairs of eyes. Some glared at him, others were simply inquiring. A few darted into dens to wake sleeping Clanmates. Seeing just how many warriors surrounded him startled Graynose. He had always known that HollyClan had the highest population of all the Clans, and yet it was still startling to see just how many strong cats of fighting age they had at their disposal. While it disheartened him to some extent, it also made him hopeful. With this many cats there had to be at least _one_ queen with milk to spare.

"This way." Shadewing said quietly into his ear, guiding him through the sea of cats toward a large, old stump at the center of camp. Howlingstar was already waiting for him at the base of the stump, as calm as ever. A few select warriors sat with him. His senior warriors, Graynose assumed. There was a shaggy brown tom with narrowed golden eyes and a dark gray she-cat who looked like she was ready to bolt at any sudden movement. Slatefur, the gray tom who had discovered Graynose's presence, settled down next to the brown cat and glared at the younger warriors nearby.

"Where's Mapleheart?" Shadewing scanned the crowd of cats.

"She just went out on patrol." Howlingstar said with a sigh, curling his tail over his paws. HollyClan's leader was an average-sized tom with no real distinguishing features. He was a plain old brown tabby. No one questioned his merit as a leader, however. The tom was currently the oldest leader of all the Clans and was the only cat who could convince Yewstar not to cause trouble at gatherings half the time. "Squirrelfoot, will you fetch her please?" He addressed a small reddish-orange tom loafing at the front of the onlookers.

"Of course." Quicker than he could blink, the tom's tail-tip was already disappearing into the foliage.

"By the stars, he's fast!" Graynose exclaimed in awe. He had never seen a cat move so swiftly!

"He's being a show-off right now is what he's doing." The shaggy tom snorted. "He just loves attention."

"Jealous, Bearpelt?" Howlingstar's whiskers twitched with barely suppressed amusement. He received another snort in return.

"That means yes." Slatefur interjected, keeping his eyes on the sky above with a completely straight face.

"Now, now, boys." Shadewing said dryly. "Try to remember that you're warriors and not squabbling kits."

"We can't be squabbling warriors?" Bearpelt rumbled, turning his gaze to the black she-cat, who shook her head in exasperation.

Their light banter amused Graynose. He tried to picture his Clan leader and her warriors teasing each other like this, but he found that he could not bring the image to mind. It just wasn't believable. Ivystar was treated more like a deity than a fellow cat. He decided this must have something to do with all the cats closest to her age being dead. Everyone but Cinderfang was either older than her, like Quailear, or younger. All the cats she had trained with as an apprentice were gone. Tragedy like that could make a cat aloof. Here Howlingstar had his mate, kits, even grandkits if Graynose remembered properly. The life of a Clan cat was always fraught with loss and danger, but StarClan had been kind to this tom.

In a miraculously short time, Mapleheart appeared. As always, Graynose had to stop and appreciate her size. She stood at least a full head taller than he did. Seeing her at gatherings beside her leader always made Howlingstar look like an apprentice. Her eyes were narrowed with concern as she trotted up to join the small group of cats gathered around Graynose.

"Everyone who isn't a senior warrior, go about your business!" Shadewing yowled, sounding for all the world like a mother scolding her kits. Muttering rebelliously, the Clan began to filter away. They wanted to know what was going on. "Kits." Shadewing muttered under her breath.

"What's happened?" Mapleheart questioned Howlingstar.

"Graynose was just about to tell us. Sit down." The brown tabby said, indicating that his deputy should sit at his side, opposite Shadewing.

"One of our queens, Mistypool has just died." Graynose began, wishing he had taken the time to go over what he was going to say to these cats. A few of them gave soft condolences, but none seemed terribly effected by this news. They just wanted to know what this news had to do with them. Graynose took a moment to gather his thoughts before pressing on.

"We need your help… the kits survived, but we have no other queens to nurse them right now. Redfern is very close to kitting, but she hasn't produced any milk yet. We need a queen who can suckle the kits for a few days until Redfern's milk starts to flow." He searched the faces of the cats around him, heart hammering. Slatefur and Bearpelt's expressions were like stone. As could be expected, the she-cats looked more sympathetic. Howlingstar appeared thoughtful while Mapleheart shook her head slowly.

"Mapleheart?" Howlingstar prompted.

"I want to help those kits, but it really isn't up to us to make this decision…" Mapleheart shook her head again and heaved a sigh. "That's up to Blackriver." From the uneasy expressions of all the cats around him, Graynose gathered that Blackriver wouldn't be too keen on the idea.

"She won't want to." Shadewing said with utmost certainty. "But I think she will. No HollyClan cat would allow kits to die. But my daughter can be rather… stubborn. I'll go fetch her." The black she-cat trotted away quickly and slipped into the nursery.

"I'm sorry about Mistypool." Howlingstar said heavily. "I only saw her at gatherings a few times, but she seemed like a sweet cat."

"She was." Graynose responded sadly. "Her Clan will miss her dearly."

Further conversation was rendered impossible as Blackriver stormed out of the nursery. The she-cat's eyes flashed challengingly as they met Graynose's. She looked exactly like her mother except for the small white splash on her chest and her smoldering blue eyes. Shadewing followed behind with a wide-eyed look on her face.

"Why should I help you?" Blackriver growled, shouldering past Mapleheart, who had moved to intercept the agitated she-cat. "All you StormClan cats do is sit on your mountain and look down on us. Why should I help your kits when you're only going to endanger mine in the future? How dare you come here and ask me that?" Her eyes were cold as she waited for an answer.

"You accuse me of judging you harshly when you know nothing about me." Graynose said softly. He was not angry. After all, every Clan had its stereotypes, and often for good reason. But some cats needed to understand that not all cats in a Clan were the same way. "The Clans have fought each other for longer than any cat can remember. You think we're uppity and rude. For the most part, you're right. But what about the kits? They haven't had the chance to hate yet. They haven't had the chance to love, or feel, or form their own opinions. Don't you think that when they're older they might be more open-minded than any other StormClan cat? If you do this, they'll live their entire lives remembering that when they needed help most it was HollyClan who stepped in to save them. You say we judge you harshly now, but think of how the whole Clan will see you if you don't help these kits. Not only will you be turning your back on us, you'll be turning your back on StarClan." He stopped, embarrassed, when he realized that the HollyClan cats had all averted their eyes in embarrassment or bowed their heads in acknowledgement of his words. Even Blackriver.

"StarClan doesn't tell me how to live. I make my own choices." Blackriver said quietly. She raised her head to meet Graynose's hopeful gaze. "I still don't like you or your Clan. But… you're right. If my actions can bring some sense into the youngsters of your Clan then I've done both our Clans a service." So saying, she turned on her heels and began to walk off, pausing only to look over her shoulder and say, "Tell your leader I'll take them for a few days. But I expect no cheek from her or the rest of your Clan."

...

"We should name them before we go." Snowbriar said as Cinderfang began bringing the little ones out one by one to set them at her side. They kneaded her side futilely in search of milk and cried out in displeasure when they found none. Despite not having food, they were strong. Much stronger than they had a right to be, given the state of their mother throughout their kitting.

"Snowbriar, they may not live long enough to make it back." Sandfeather, a small, pale ginger she-cat said hesitantly. She, Graynose, Snowbriar, and Blackclaw had volunteered to take the kits to HollyClan, although in Blackclaw's case he had been volunteered for by his mate, Redfern. He was looking sullen as they prepared to leave.

"All the more reason to name them." Snowbriar insisted.

"I think it's a good idea." Cinderfang put in as he deposited the last kit beside its siblings. "Mistypool only got the chance to utter one name before she died." He crouched beside the helpless little kittens and pointed to the only tom, a light gray tabby. "She wanted him to be Rainkit."

"This one should be Frostkit." Sandfeather said, warming to the idea of naming the kits. She purred as the little white kit she had named wriggled over one of her sisters and gave a deafening wail.

"She's going to be trouble later." Cinderfang's tail twitched in amusement.

"I like the name Pebblekit." Snowbriar said, drawing her tail gently over the flanks of the pale gray kit. Pebblekit only gave a weak grunt in response. She was the weakest of all the kits, which Graynose knew was worrying Snowbriar.

"Graynose? Do you want to name the last one?" Sandfeather asked. "You've done more than all of us to make sure these kits survive."

"All I've done is run back and forth as messenger." Graynose said with some amusement, but he dipped his head to get a better look at the remaining kit. He had to push Frostkit off of her to reveal the soft white underbelly of Mistypool's final kit. With the absence of Frostkit's warmth, the little one squirmed around until she was on her stomach, revealing the color of her back to be the same pale gray as Pebblekit's pelt.

Seeing the kit's face stirred a memory in Graynose. The fur along his spine spiked up as he recognized her. _It was the cat from his dream!_ Unable to keep his whiskers from trembling, he sat straight up in shock.

"What's the matter?" Snowbriar's eyes went wide with alarm.

"Her name is Dovekit." Graynose said absently, remembering the image of the bird spreading its wings from his dream. Now it made sense! It was _Dovekit_ he was going to help, not Mistypool.

"Maybe you should stay back and let someone else join this patrol, Graynose." Sandfeather meowed nervously.

"No! No, I'm fine, sorry. I just…" Graynose was happier than he could remember being. He thought he had failed StarClan in some way by letting Mistypool die, but perhaps they had already known that was going to happen. He knew now what their task for him was. If he could, he would mentor young Dovekit himself. Willowpaw was almost old enough to become a warrior as it was. He would be free to take another apprentice once six moons had passed.

Realizing his Clanmates were looking at him oddly, he meowed hastily, "I'm sorry. I just… got a little emotional. They look so much like Mistypool." Meeting Cinderfang's eyes, Graynose knew that the medicine cat was not fooled. Did he know that StarClan had sent him a sign?

A look of understanding crossed the medicine cat's face when Graynose gave him a quick nod. They would discuss this at another time.

"Are we going or what? I thought these kits were starving or something." Blackclaw complained.

"Yes, we should go quickly." Snowbriar said, sitting up and wrapping her tail around the precious bundles.

Sandfeather took Pebblekit and led the way out of camp. She was closely followed by Blackclaw, who took Rainkit firmly in his jaws. Graynose, naturally, picked up Dovekit.

_You may not know it, little one, but you have a great destiny ahead of you._ He thought, wishing the kit were old enough to understand him. _I'll take good care of you. Always. _


	16. RavenClan: The Plea of a Friend

**The Plea of a Friend**

Wind screamed in Yewstar's ears. The blizzard buffeted her from all directions, making it impossible to take a single step without losing her balance and falling chest-deep into the frigid white flurries dominating the earth. Her paws tingled with numbness, making it hard for her to feel where she was placing them. Doggedly, she pressed on, focused only on finding someplace safe.

"It's no use." A voice like nothing she had never heard before shouted over the gale. It was like the snarl of a badger and the yelp of a frightened puppy all at the same time.

"Keep moving." She found herself growling, raising her tail as a signal to follow. Behind her, she caught a glimpse of many shadowy figures struggling through the snow in her wake. Without seeing them clearly, somehow she knew that they were her Clanmates. And yet… something was different.

But there was no time to dwell on this. They had to keep moving. It was her job as leader to bring them to a safe place… _a_ _safe place…. safe…_

"Yewstar." The soft, urgent whisper pulled the she-cat away from the snowy landscape. Opening her eyes, she was surprised to feel tepid air from outside gusting gently through her den. Her numb paws vanished and the sudden silence that greeted her in the waking world was so startling, she jerked her head up in drowsy alarm.

Sagefrost flinched at her sudden reaction. "Sorry!" He apologized.

"What? Oh… just a dream." She murmured to herself, sitting up and blinking rapidly. Pale silver light from the half moon outside cast everything in her den in ghostly shadow. The night was quiet and peaceful. Yewstar yawned, struggling to drag her thoughts from sleep and her dream. "What's going on?"

"There's someone here to see you." Sagefrost said anxiously.

Her heart skipped a beat, jolting her sleepiness away instantly. "Who?" She was already on her paws and starting for the entrance to her den.

"Cinderfang of StormClan. He says his Clan needs our help." The anger in Sagefrost's voice gave her pause. She wanted to ask him what the medicine cat's request was, but she decided, with some guilt, that she would rather hear it from Cinderfang himself.

Turning her attention to the sounds outside her den, Yewstar realized that her entire Clan was awake and muttering to each other while they awaited their leader's arrival. That was not how she wanted to speak to Cinderfang. "Tell him to come see me." She said to Sagefrost. "I'll speak to him alone."

For the first time, Yewstar was glad that Sagefrost was so inexperienced when it came to being deputy. She would have had to find some sort of good explanation if it had been Smokepatch, and she had no reason behind this order other than she wanted to be alone with Cinderfang to talk things out calmly. RavenClan cats were, as a rule, not afraid to state their opinions. She shared their opinion on StormClan, but it was hard for her to turn down the cat who had saved her skin as an apprentice. It would not sit well with her to turn him away without hearing what he had to say, and she had the feeling that her Clanmates would sooner chase him off than hear a plea for help. They owed StormClan nothing. It was only Yewstar who felt a debt of honor to the medicine cat.

She settled down in front of her nest and gave herself a few quick licks, making sure that she didn't have any bedding stuck in her pelt. Sagefrost didn't give her much time to prepare before he was ushering Cinderfang in. Yewstar fixed an indifferent expression on her face and regarded the StormClan medicine cat coolly.

When Sagefrost made no move to leave, she said, "You may go, Sagefrost. I wish to hear what he has to say alone first." It became obvious that Sagefrost had misinterpreted what she had said earlier, because his eyes widened and he looked startled. Still, he bowed his head and backed out without question.

"Risky." Cinderfang rasped once they were alone in her den. "Trying to talk alone in your own camp. They're going to be talking about this, you know."

"What do you know about politics, you old windbag?" Yewstar snorted. "You think they'd let you ask for help without shouting you down? I have to admit, it's a gutsy move, even for Ivystar. I never thought old sourwhiskers would willingly send you here. Well then, what's the trouble? Out with it."

"Fair enough. You're the only set of ears I need right now." Cinderfang said, but then hesitated. Yewstar sat quietly, watching him closely and allowing him to gather his thoughts. Most of StormClan would rather die than ask another Clan for help, especially RavenClan. That meant that there must be something quite serious going on. Her heart sank to her paws when she realized that she might have to tell her old friend no. There were not many scenarios where she would be able to persuade her Clan that it would be wise to assist their rivals.

"We had a death today." He said finally, his gaze traveling from the ceiling to meet Yewstar's. "It was the queen I told you about before, Mistypool."

"It's not your fault." Yewstar meowed immediately, knowing how the gray tom could be when it came to giving himself a hard time.

Seeing her wide, sympathetic eyes, Cinderfang shrugged resignedly. "I can't force food into a cat's belly. But that's not the issue." Yewstar suddenly realized how exhausted he looked, whiskers drooping slightly and eyes glazed with grief and tiredness. He paused again before continuing slowly. "There were… four kits. They have no milk. Redfern can't nurse them for a few days. We need a queen to nurse them. Just for a few days."

His pleading expression turned to one of despair as Yewstar shook her head. Pain wrenching her heart at the sight of his raw emotions, she explained, "We have no queens with milk. I'm so sorry Cinderfang… There's nothing RavenClan can do for those kits. If there were…" She trailed off, looking at her paws. It did no good to tell him that she would help him if she could. It did not change the fact that there was nothing she could do.

She was surprised to feel him lightly place his tail on her shoulder. Looking up to meet his eyes once more, she was startled to see gentleness and gratitude there. "I know you would help me if you could. You always have." He turned and padded for the mouth of her den. "I have to report back. I can only hope the cat they sent to HollyClan will return with more positive news. There's something… special about these kits." A strange light appeared in his eyes. "They can't be allowed to die."

"With you watching over them, there's no way they will." Yewstar said quietly.

He gave her a long look before silently leaving her den. She heard him mutter something to himself, which sounded something like, "I'm getting too old for this nonsense…"

Thinking sadly about how the seasons had changed both of them, Yewstar moved to sit just outside the entrance to her den so she could watch him go. He plodded slowly through the assembled RavenClan cats, who stepped warily out of his way and watched him pass. Some tails were twitching in agitation, but seeing the StormClan cat leave with his tail down was enough to get a few satisfied murmurs around camp.

"What did he want?" Smokepatch asked softly. Yewstar gave a start. She hadn't noticed him settle down beside her. He looked worried.

"One of the queens of his Clan died, but her kits survived. He just wanted to know if we had a queen to nurse them while they waited for another queen of their Clan to produce milk." She explained briefly to her old deputy.

"Oh." He gave a long sigh, allowing his tense muscles to relax. "And you told him we couldn't help him. Moonwing's litter have been eating solid food for awhile now."

Yewstar nodded. "Precisely."

"Are you going to tell the Clan?"

"You can do that." Yewstar's jaws split in a massive fake yawn. "I'm too tired. I'm going to bed." As she disappeared into the safety of her den, she felt Smokepatch's golden gaze boring into her back.

Although she had just woken up, Yewstar felt suddenly fatigued. The golden tabby flopped back down into her mossy nest and curled up, chin on her paws with her eyes open, facing the wall. Etched in pale shadow, she began to relive her memories.

…

The world was awash in golden light. Blades of grass stood silhouetted by the glorious light, adding splashes of pale green to the ground below. It was a muggy, still day, unusually warm for the season of Newleaf. The air was thick, heavy with the moisture of the past few days' rain. Twisting tendrils of steam rose from small pools hidden under the thick pelt of grass, looking like cheerful ghosts ascending merrily to the sky to play among the clouds.

Frogs croaked lustily in some of these ponds, accompanied by the buzz of dragonflies and the occasional bumblebee as they flitted from one source of water to another in search of mates and, in the case of the bumblebees, flowers. One frog in particular was making a racket as it struggled for dominance over a certain small pool. On the opposite bank sat his rival, _rabbit_-ing away impudently. This contest had been going on all morning. Just as the frog was drawing breath to deliver his final warning to the young upstart, a golden feline exploded from out of nowhere and squashed his competitor with two if its deadly paws. Not wanting to stick around and be the next victim, the frog darted unceremoniously into the water.

Yewpaw's ears perked up at the splash, but she didn't make any move for the second frog. Delicately, she stepped off her catch to survey the damage. She was pleased to see she had merely broken the spine this time. The last frog she had tried to catch had… well… _popped_ under her weight. It was very difficult to take something back to the Clan when it was lying in pieces all along the side of the pond.

Today had been a really good day for the young apprentice. It was her first solo hunting mission, and she had been told not to return to camp until the sun began its descent in the sky that afternoon. She had already caught two things: that frog and a little sparrow not far from camp.

With some disgust, she daintily picked up the frog by one of its webbed feet and carried it over to a clump of grass, which she carefully flattened over it so that no scavengers would get it. Although, in her opinion, they could keep the thing if they found it. She hated frogs.

Noting that the area around her had become quite silent after her successful kill, Yewpaw trotted off toward the firmer grasslands near the StormClan border, where more suitable prey lived.

Before she left, Hawkheart and Webpelt had warned her not to get too close to any of the borders. StormClan and HollyClan were both as jumpy as rabbits, and even though RavenClan wasn't involved in their war, nobody wanted to start trouble with either Clan. Yewpaw was naturally curious, and part of her wanted to disobey in order to catch a glimpse of a StormClan patrol. As of yet she had only seen a handful of rival Clan cats, and that was only at a distance. She had not yet attended her first gathering.

Stepping lightly, Yewpaw kept her senses alert for the musical chirps of nearby birds. Every so often she would investigate little rustling noises, but it seemed that the mice were still tucked away in their burrows. Probably nursing their young.

Suddenly, the white bobtail of a fat rabbit streaked across the apprentice's field of vision. Elated, Yewpaw immediately gave chase. If she could catch a rabbit, her Clan would be impressed with her for sure! Then they would _have_ to let her go to the next gathering!

Try as she might, fate and genetics saw the rabbit fade away into the distance. Panting, Yewpaw was forced to stop and rest after her headlong sprint through the grasslands. RavenClan cats weren't made for marathons, and in her inexperience Yewpaw had gone after a rabbit that already had far too big of a head start.

As she lay in the shade of a small clump of heather catching her breath, a scent drifted over her on a weak breeze. StormClan! And fresh. Had she crossed the border on accident? Stiffening in horror, she sat up straight to get her bearings. Relief flooded through her when she caught sight of a familiar rotting tree stump where apprentices came sometimes to gather moss. She was on her own land.

And yet the scent was still there.

Nose twitching, Yewpaw followed the scent cautiously. Against the yellow-green grass the apprentice all but disappeared, her golden pelt blending perfectly with her surroundings and blurring her outline against the landscape. Although she was only halfway through her apprenticeship, this was not lost on her and she did not hesitate to use it to her advantage. Even other cats would have been hard-pressed to spot her.

The scent-trail led her to the border. As she went, each step became more and more reluctant. She could hear the voices of her mentor and father as they told her not to go near the border. What would Webpelt do if he lost his only daughter? After the loss of Turtlepaw, the black and white tom had been slow to recover, especially with Sunfur, Yewpaw's mother, following her daughter willingly to StarClan. Yewpaw was all he had left in this world.

Making the decision to turn back and let a warrior investigate the smell, Yewpaw was about to turn and head back home when she caught sight of the source. Her eyes flew wide with shock when she saw him. An enemy warrior! On RavenClan land! The young she-cat had to take a moment to compose herself.

He was sitting a few tree-lengths away with his back to her. It was a big, broad-shouldered tom with a pelt the color of ashes. The warrior was at least twice her size, but Yewpaw was fueled by righteous anger. How dare he trespass on her territory? He didn't even have the decency to look nervous about it.

Glaring out at him from her hiding place amidst the tall grass, Yewpaw suddenly realized that there was the perfect ambush spot just to the right of the intruder. It was a cliff, not too tall and not too short. He wouldn't see her coming until she was already on him. Because she would be above him, she did not have to worry about her own scent alerting him to her presence. The shock of the experience alone would drive him back to his territory with his tail between his legs!

Momentarily forgetting the trouble she would be in for disobeying her elders, Yewpaw silently made a wide circle as she moved around to take her place at the vantage point she envisioned. The appeal of being one of the only apprentices in the Clan who had taken on an enemy warrior and won was just too much. After all, didn't Hawkheart always tell her that surprise was a better weapon than the sharpest claw?

By the time she reached the top of the cliff, her heart was hammering rapidly in her chest and a sea of doubts plagued her mind. What if she missed him? What if he saw her before she could leap? What if he already knew she was there? What if he didn't give in as easily as she thought and ended up chasing _her _off? Not only would that be humiliating, she would end up feeling the wrath of her mentor and would probably not be allowed to go out on her own ever again.

Two options seemed open to the apprentice. She could either still sneak away and find a warrior to deal with this insolent furball, or she could go through with her plan and perhaps win herself a little fame among her Clanmates. Of course, if things went downhill then she would be subject to the worst kind of embarrassment… But maybe she could scare him off by just yowling at him. From so high up, he would have no way of knowing that she was only an apprentice. He wouldn't be able to tell how small and young she was compared to him, so long as she could pull off a bossy, commanding voice, and Yewpaw knew that she was a brilliant actress. As a kit she had convinced an elder that Smokepaw had mixed brambles in with her bedding instead of Turtlekit, the real culprit.

The whole time she had been dealing with her inner turmoil, the she-cat had been staring down at her intended victim. With a start, she came to the realization that this cat was not a warrior at all. He was plucking herbs. A pile of his collected plants sat beside him as he carefully plucked dandelion stalks from the ground. Even from above Yewpaw thought that the cat had a rather lethargic look to him, as though he were simply going through the motions of collecting herbs and did not really have his mind on what was in front of him. Typical. Cloverbreeze, RavenClan's medicine cat, was a prime example of medicine cat laziness. It looked like it was the same way in StormClan as well.

Drawing herself up contemptuously, Yewpaw opened her mouth to yowl a challenge down to the intruder, but movement caught her eye and caused her to drop back down in alarm. A hulking shape was lumbering through the tall grass toward the medicine cat. Even from so far away, Yewpaw knew it was too big to be a cat. Straining her eyes, she caught a glimpse of a striped head just above the top of the grass. A badger!

Suddenly chasing off the tom below did not seem important.

"Hey!" She hissed down at him, trying to keep from being spotted by the dangerous creature as it ambled closer to the cliffs.

The tom's pale green gaze snapped up to her. He looked surprised, but not alarmed, and not in the slightest bit guilty. "What are you doing?" He demanded much too loudly.

"Keep your voice down, maggot-brain!" She snarled down at him, still maintaining a rather hushed tone. Her eyes kept darting to where she had last seen the badger. It was too late.

A low growl from behind him caused the tom to drag his irritated gaze from Yewpaw to face the giant form of the badger. Finding the cat seemed to make the beast instantly aggressive, and with an impressive display of speed, it swatted the unwary tom backward with a powerful uppercut. The tom was too stunned to even cry out as his body hit the ground with a painful _thud_.

A series of triumphant grunts and guttural snarls erupted from the badger's throat. It took its time slowly walking toward its stunned target, perverse pleasure glittering in its dark, beady eyes at the sight of the tom's weak attempts to get to his paws. He was not going to recover in time.

Before she knew what she was doing, Yewpaw felt air blowing through her whiskers and felt her claws come into contact with coarse, rough fur. In an instant, the badger was twisting underneath her in an effort to fling her off, but the apprentice hung on for dear life, sinking her claws in deeper the more the monster struggled. The world was a blur around her.

Somehow her teeth found the badger's ear. The resulting howl of anger and agony deafened her, causing her to flatten her own ears in an effort to block out the horrific sound.

The badger had had enough at this point and redoubled its efforts to throw the apprentice off. One of Yewpaw's paws slipped, leaving her with one paw and her teeth to keep her on the back of the bucking badger. She frantically tried to grip the beast's thick pelt with her claws, but found herself sailing through the air as it gave one last toss of its upper body. Instinctively, Yewpaw flipped herself around in midair to land on her paws, but the shock of the landing caused her legs to buckle underneath her and caused her to skid along ungracefully on her belly.

As she scrambled to her paws to face her foe, she noticed that the badger had not followed her. The beast was too busy dealing with the StormClan tom, who Yewpaw had not realized had rejoined the fray. With a shudder, she thought to herself that she was lucky that she had not decided to pounce on the tom from above. He was as quick as a snake, dodging from side to side as the big creature aimed blow after blow at the gray tom. Every so often the badger would recoil, giving an angry grunt as the tom's teeth met its wrists and legs.

No cat could keep a pace like that up for long, so Yewpaw leaped forward to help. She darted in behind it and swatted its rump and clawed at its hind legs. Whenever it would try to whirl and hit her, the tom would go in for a swipe to the face or neck, forcing it to keep its eye on him at all times while it was being needled by the smaller cat from behind. Frustrated, the badger let out a thunderous roar.

It was here that Yewpaw made a mistake. She had grown somewhat comfortable in her role and allowed herself to fall into a predictable rhythm. It was because of this that the badger was able to predict where she would be, and when she went in for the next attack, she was met with the triumphant gaze of the beast as it whipped around with unexpected speed and sank its teeth deep into her shoulder.

Everything seemed to slow down as the badger lifted her up. She caught a glimpse of the tom she had been fighting with, his eyes wide with horror and his mouth open, yowling words that she could not hear over another, high-pitched sound. Her head swam with confusion. What was that sound?

As the badger began to shake her violently, she recognized it. It was her own screeches she was hearing. Just as she realized that, flaming agony shot through her. The shock of it caused her vision to blur, and then fade away slowly. As all her senses began to fade, she was vaguely aware of the fact that she was falling. And then she was lost in nothingness.

…

"Well that was silly, now wasn't it?" Turtlepaw purred into her ear.

Yewpaw sprang up playfully, pouncing on her littermate and growling with mock-annoyance. "What do you know about it?"

"More than you!" The calico she-cat said teasingly, wiggling under Yewpaw's paws and smirking knowingly. "I'm a StarClan cat now, you know."

"Oh." Suddenly the memory came back to Yewpaw. Her sister's bloody body being dragged back to camp… Sunfur collapsing beside the still form… the empty nest beside Yewpaw's…

Staggering backward, Yewpaw stared wide-eyed at Turtlepaw. Suddenly she noticed the starlight in her fur, the semi-transparent look of her fur, the aura of wisdom and power surrounding her… And yet she still looked at Yewpaw with that same cheerful, smug expression. "What's it like?"

"You almost found out for yourself, you muddle-brained thistlehead!" Turtlepaw batted at Yewpaw lightheartedly.

"How rude!" Yewpaw sniffed, ducking underneath and grappling her sister with both front paws.

Turtlepaw flopped onto her back dramatically, squirming in the ethereal-looking grass before pausing to look seriously at Yewpaw. "You've got to be careful now. Your loyalty is going to be tested, but if you pass these tests you'll become someone great."

"What sort of test?" Yewpaw asked, lying on her belly and dragging herself toward Turtlepaw. Turtlepaw always said peculiar things, even as a StarClan cat. Why couldn't she just play a little bit? It would be forever until they got the chance to do this again.

"I can't tell you." That smugness came back into her voice. "The real question you should be asking yourself though is this: Isn't it time you woke up?"

…

The memory of Turtlepaw caused Yewstar to sit up in the darkness. Not a day went by when she did not think of her sister. Even now the RavenClan leader would think about what her lost sibling might say in any given situation. They had been as close as sisters could be, and the loss was still deep.

Even then, Yewstar had not thought of this day in a long time. That conversation with her sister had been a gift from StarClan, and remembering it now, she found herself wishing that she could have more like it. Despite being near death, Yewstar recalled the pure joy she had felt at the sight of Turtlepaw. Her words, although wise and prophetic, had not diminished her happiness in the dream.

Closing her eyes, she focused on the image of her sister. They said time healed all wounds, but the truth was that time was only a painkiller. There was no cure for the hole a loved one left behind when they went to walk with StarClan. Yewstar knew that thinking about Turtlepaw only brought her pain. She knew that reliving all of these memories would only make her sad. And yet…

In her mind's eye, a pair of pale green eyes sparkled, calling her to back to that time so long ago.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: Well, this chapter took an unexpected direction for me while I was writing it. So er... yeah. It ended up being way too long for one chapter. As a result, next chapter will be RavenClan as well. I'm really sorry to all of you who were ready for another HollyClan chapter. D: Don't hit me. <strong>

**Also I have a poll on my profile asking which of the three Clans is your favorite. It will help me tell how I'm doing if you'll answer that. **


	17. RavenClan: Another World

**Another World**

"Isn't she awake yet?" The aggressive growl echoed through Yewpaw's consciousness slowly, giving her time to digest the words as her mind gradually became more alert. The words, spoken by a tom, mixed themselves with Turtlepaw's words and confused the she-cat's muddled thoughts.

The first sense to come to her was her hearing. Everything was quiet, although she could make out the sound of a soft rustling and the distant meows of cats. Wind was gusting somewhere nearby, although Yewpaw could not feel it. She could feel nothing but the fuzziness of her head, which soon gave way to a fuzziness of mouth and paw. She was parched. Instinctively, she ran her tongue over her lips and experienced an advanced version of the dryness one felt after waking up to discover that they had been sleeping with a mouth wide open.

The next thing she became aware of was the fact that she felt unbearably hot all over. She shifted herself, but found no respite from the discomfort. The movement made her head start throbbing. And then the memories came back in a rush and her eyes snapped open.

Though she would have liked to, Yewpaw did not have the energy to sit up immediately. The only thing she could do was look out from her nest, although nest was a term used very loosely here. It was little more than a pile of ragged old moss and random clumps of grass tossed together. Whoever had created it had not wasted any time making it comfortable.

She was in a cave. Near the back, she would guess, as she could not see any source of light in front of her. The dank scents of earth and rock assailed her nostrils, along with the bitter tang of herbs. Her normally quick wits were dulled by drowsiness, so it took her longer than it should have to work out that she was in a medicine den. It was not RavenClan's medicine den either. A flash of anger tore through her when she realized that the StormClan cat had taken her back to his own Clan, but it dissipated when she recalled her last few moments of consciousness. How badly was she hurt?

Panic coursed through her, causing her muscles to spasm as she jerked upright. She was instantly forced back down into her nest by a shooting, terrible pain that emanated up from her right leg and ripped through her shoulder like a blazing inferno of agony. Although she could not hear it over the roaring in her ears, she squeaked in shock.

"Ah, you're awake. I wouldn't move if I were you, little flea." A raspy old voice said darkly. A wizened she-cat who looked as though she had seen several seasons too many stepped into view, round blue eyes fixed on Yewpaw. She was a fairly odd-looking cat to Yewpaw. Her body was a creamy white color while her face and scrawny tail were a fiery orange with rust-colored tabby stripes. Despite being somewhat gaunt, Yewpaw thought the she-cat was very regal in appearance and good-looking for her age. It made her feel rather plain in her normal tabby markings.

It took a few moments for Yewpaw to force words out of her parched throat, but she managed to croak out, "What happened?"

"Cinderfang brought you here. He said you got injured saving him from a badger. Looks like you got the short end of the stick." The she-cat's tone was not friendly. She sounded positively disdainful, something Yewpaw would expect. RavenClan warriors were always grumbling about the abysmal attitudes of their neighbors.

The name Cinderfang was slightly familiar to Yewpaw. She recalled hearing some of the warriors talking about a StormClan warrior who had been so frightened by his first real battle that he had turned to medicine. Of course, she had only been vaguely paying attention as she tussled with one of her denmates. RavenClan warriors loved mulling over any rumors that they picked up at gatherings. It was perhaps this nosiness that made the other Clans distrust them so much. That and the fact that RavenClan cats had, in the past, been trained as spies and would sneak into other Clans' territories to pick up on any juicy info firstpaw. Cinderstar had put a stop to this practice when she became leader, much to her Clan's shock and dismay. But that was before Yewpaw's time.

"He's the gray cat with the orangey splotch on his chest. Big-shouldered, handsome, you know." The she-cat took Yewpaw's silent reflection as a poor memory and waspishly started describing the tom. "And my name is Firenose, since I'm assuming you don't know who I am either." The way she said it, Yewpaw gathered that the skinny she-cat was used to cats knowing who she was. She felt somewhat ashamed of herself for not bothering to memorize the names that Hawkheart had gone over with her, because she was fairly certain they had gone over all the medicine cats serving at present.

Yewpaw took a moment to clear her throat before saying diplomatically, "Thank you for saving me."

"I didn't lay a paw on you." Firenose sniffed. She looked as though she would rather lick a snail. "Cinderfang is the one who cleaned and dressed your wounds. You'll have to thank him. Although I guess I sort of helped since I stopped him from giving you a ragwort and marigold poultice instead of _goldenrod_ and marigold, but that wouldn't have killed you." She paused with a thoughtful expression. "At least, I don't think so."

"Oh, don't go and scare the poor thing. We all know you're a big softie." A cheerful purr erupted from somewhere behind Yewpaw. Careful not to aggravate her injury again, she slowly rearranged herself so that she could comfortably peer out at the entrance to the medicine den, where a big cream-colored tom was sitting with his golden tail curled over his paws. Besides his ears, Yewpaw realized that this was the only part of him that was a different color.

"Nobody asked you, Yellowtail." Firenose snapped. "Cloudstar posted you here as a guard, not an opinion-giver."

"Why are you so mean to me?" The tom's face fell.

"You're not special. She's mean to everyone." A tired-sounding tom trotted in and placed a bundle of herbs on a natural rock shelf located on the opposite side of the den. Yewpaw recognized him immediately as the trespasser from before, Cinderfang. "I've got your herbs, you old coot." He called to Firenose.

"Mind your tongue!" She bristled at him, which didn't seem to faze the younger cat in the least.

He turned wearily to face her, but caught sight of Yewpaw watching from her nest. "So you're finally awake." He said, eyes glittering. "Yellowtail, will you go and get a mouse from the fresh-kill pile for our guest?" The warrior dipped his head and hurried off to do as Cinderfang asked.

"She doesn't need food, you oaf!" Firenose exclaimed. The vehemence with which she rounded on her apprentice was alarming to the RavenClan cat. "You've got her on nearly every herb known to cat-kind and you think she's going to be able to stomach a mouse? Give her some poppy seeds and let her sleep, pigeon-brain."

Now that she mentioned it, Yewpaw realized that the thought of eating was making her nauseous, although she felt positively weak with hunger. Sleep was really the most appealing thing she could think of right now, besides one other necessity. "May I have some water?" She interjected meekly.

Cinderfang nodded curtly to her and returned with both a mouse and a small ball of soaked moss. Yewpaw felt as though she could have guzzled down a whole pond, but the water from the moss was refreshing and it served to make her feel more alert.

Aware that the tom was watching her, the apprentice rested her head on her paws and closed her eyes. Fear and anxiety fluttered about in her chest like a trapped bird, making it hard to breathe. Logically, she could figure out that she had been unconscious for at least a day. The sun outside was bright, bright enough to be midday. It had been around midday when she discovered the intruder on her Clan's land, and she doubted that he could have dragged her back to his Clan and treated her wounds before the sun even began to set. Her father would be worried sick at this point.

A tight ball seemed to form in her stomach as she thought about what the cats at home must be saying. Webpelt would be frantically searching their territory with Hawkheart. Cinderstar would be organizing patrols to help look for her. Her friends, Otterpaw and Blackpaw, were probably both worried sick about her. She felt pain tug at her heart at the thought of Blackpaw. Though only apprentices, they were extremely close, and Yewpaw had overheard more than one gossipy she-cat say that they would not be surprised if the two of them became mates as warriors. It was a prospect that she did not mind at all, although she hoped that she wouldn't end up stuck in the nursery taking care of kits all the time.

"You'll be back with your Clanmates by the end of this moon." Cinderfang meowed quietly, as though reading her thoughts. "You were badly hurt. The best thing you can do is rest."

Yewpaw wanted to thank him, but she couldn't get the words out. She simply blinked at him.

"Take these." He ordered gently, pushing a few ovular leaves under her muzzle. "They'll help you relax and sleep."

The golden she-cat munched on the leaves carefully, thankful that they did not taste horrible, as most herbs did. They smelled wonderfully fresh and left her with a pleasant flavor in her mouth. Between the two leaves that Cinderfang gave her were a few poppy seeds, which Yewpaw recognized right away. Her mother had become somewhat addicted to them in her grief for Turtlepaw.

Before she knew it, Yewpaw had fallen into a deep, dreamless sleep.

…

The next two days for Yewpaw were spent asleep, for the most part. Every so often Firenose would unceremoniously rouse her and order her to stretch her legs by walking around inside the den. The apprentice was forced to make her dirt behind a small bush at the edge of camp, and as a result did not get to see much of StormClan's home. It seemed a bit extreme, but Yewpaw understood their paranoia. They did not want her to pick out a weak spot in their defenses and have that weakness exploited in the next war with RavenClan. She was simply grateful that the old she-cat did not make her limp around camp with her wounded shoulder.

The wound was healing well, but not fast enough for Yewpaw. When she walked, the going was slow and awkward. It was highly embarrassing, and although Firenose was possibly the crankiest thing in the three territories and beyond, she was the only one who seemed to understand this and would shoo everyone out of the den when she wanted Yewpaw to get up and exercise. Nobody argued with Firenose.

Except for these daily "tests", as Firenose would call them, Cinderfang was the one who took care of Yewpaw. He spoke to her very rarely and it always felt horribly strained when he did say something. Yewpaw could relate to this, because she did not know what to say to him either. She had quite possibly saved his life by leaping at that badger when she did, and yet she could not look him in the eye and say more than a word. It was always uncomfortable when he would come to check her wound and apply herbs, but Yewpaw enjoyed seeing him. He was the only other cat she had contact with besides Firenose and whoever was on guard at the time. The guards were typically unfriendly, and saying anything to Firenose was always a frightening experience.

Watching Cinderfang in the medicine den was like watching a kit playing with an abnormally large leaf. He was always uncertain and clumsy, and he often got scolded by old Firenose for seemingly innocent things. At first Yewpaw thought it was because he was a full-grown cat and she thought he should learn faster than a younger cat, but it quickly became apparent that almost anything would send the skinny she-cat into a frenzy of screeching and name-calling. The Clan hardly batted an eye whenever something set her off, and soon Yewpaw grew just as accustom to her ways as they.

It was on her fourth day living with the StormClan cats that she made an effort to speak to him. Yewpaw was, by nature, a social cat. She craved interaction with someone, even if it was with this clumsy, somewhat abrupt tom.

"How did you do it?" She asked him suddenly as he sat across the den, sorting herbs. For once they were alone, Firenose having gone to assist in the kitting of a queen named Dayfeather. Cloudstar had stopped sending guards after a small skirmish with HollyClan. Though the leader had not been to see her himself, his deputy, Longfang, had. He checked in each day and reported back to his leader.

"Pardon?" Cinderfang glanced back at her, halting whatever he was doing.

"How did you get away from the badger? You haven't got so much as a scratch on you." Yewpaw glared at him, although she kept her tone somewhat light so he wouldn't mistake her mock annoyance for the real thing.

The green eyes narrowed. He was silent for so long that Yewpaw worried that she had genuinely offended him, but then he let out an airy sigh and said, "I simply made it feel like it would be… unbeneficial to continue harassing me."

"You're not one for telling tales, are you?" The semi-contemptuous words were out of her mouth before she could stop them. Inwardly, she cringed. After a lifetime of treating older cats with respect, she wondered at the wisdom of tweaking the whiskers of the cat who has saved her life. Even if he was only a medicine cat apprentice, he was old enough to be a warrior. And medicine cat apprentices were still afforded a decent amount of respect, despite their inexperience.

Annoyance flickered across his face, but only for a brief moment before he regained his cool and looked down his nose at the apprentice. "If there was anything left to say on the matter, I would say it." His tail-tip twitched slightly. " Don't they teach you RavenClan cats to show proper gratitude and respect?"

"Hey, I saved your skin, too, you know." Yewpaw protested, rankled by the medicine cat's somewhat superior tone. "And just because you're a medicine cat and you're older than me doesn't make you better than me, so wipe that look off your face." The last statement came out more forcefully than she intended, but the way he was looking at her with that insufferably patronizing expression made her blood boil.

"I could have gotten up." He muttered, casting his gaze downward.

"Oh? Well what were you waiting for, then? StarClan?" Yewpaw asked scathingly. Grateful as she was to him for treating her wounds, she was not going to let this tom think she was indebted to him in any way.

Cinderfang didn't answer. He merely turned back to his herbs and ignored Yewpaw for the rest of the day.

…

"She named them Cloudkit and Downkit." Yewpaw kept her eyes closed as she listened to Firenose telling Cinderfang the details of the kitting from earlier. "It's a shame about the third kit, but two in a she-cat's first litter is more than enough."

"Are they strong?" Cinderfang's deep voice reverberated through the cave.

"They both are. Strong she-cats. Just what the Clan needs more of." Firenose rasped over the cracking of bones as she crunched on a small finch that her apprentice had left for her.

"We've been blessed with so many kits this season-cycle." Cinderfang said softly, his tone suddenly hollow.

"Thistlewing's had her paws full with so many brats in her nest. Darkkit doesn't seem to like his adopted brother and sister though." Firenose said with some amusement. If she noticed the tom's lackluster response, she didn't react to it. "Flykit and Silverkit take so much after their father, and they never even met him. That Flykit kept getting underfoot, too. He's such a nosy little wretch." In spite of her apparent disgust with the kits, Yewpaw could tell that the crotchety old she-cat was fond of the kittens she spoke of.

"They gang up on him." Cinderfang said with a sigh. "I'm glad those two will be made apprentices soon. Darkkit will have some peace for a moon or two before he has to put up with them again."

"He should learn to stick up for himself instead of moping like a depressed turtle." Firenose snorted. There was some light rustling sounds and then a long sigh from the old she-cat. "Don't wake me till sunhigh."

"Yes, Firenose." Cinderfang's respectful meow was the last thing Yewpaw heard before the cave fell silent once again. Not long after that, the apprentice joined Firenose in sleep.

…

Yewpaw spent the next morning carefully grooming her paws and face. She knew that she probably looked like some sort of filthy rogue, but until now she had spent the majority of each day in a drugged sleep. Even now she could not reach her back and shoulders, and hunching over to clean her chest, belly, or hind paws was pure agony. So she was reduced to repeatedly cleaning her paws and face until she was sure that every last bit of debris and dirt was gone from those areas. While it wasn't a whole lot, it made her feel more like a cat and less like a pile of mud. It was near midmorning when she grew tired of repetitively running her paw over her face and ceased her cleaning in favor of observing her surroundings again.

Cinderfang was leafing through each of the bundles of herbs to make sure everything was still good. Beside him was a pile of leaves too dry or rotten to use. He did not make eye contact with Yewpaw, which told the apprentice that he was still peeved about the previous day's conversation. She was annoyed by this, but at the same time, she avoided his gaze just as much, if not more.

The tense quiet between them was interrupted when a pretty young she-cat padded into the medicine den. She had the deepest leaf-green eyes that Yewpaw had ever seen and a lovely, thick coat of silver with white undertones. Even her aloof, slightly airy expression added to her beauty. Comparing herself to this she-cat, the only thing Yewpaw could draw comfort from was the fact that she was taller.

"Cinderfang, Cloudstar's calling a Clan meeting. He said that the RavenClan cat could attend if she so wished." The she-cat's eyes flicked to Yewpaw for a split second before returning to the medicine cat apprentice. Her tone was neutral when she spoke of the RavenClan apprentice, but Yewpaw was left feeling slightly offended by her dismissive attitude. Didn't anyone ever say hello in this StarClan-forsaken place?

"Hi, I'm Yewpaw." Yewpaw said with as much false cheerfulness as she could bring forth.

The she-cat blinked at her, whiskers twitching with amusement. "Well hello, Yewpaw. I'm Ivyleaf. Nice to meet you."

The apprentice wondered if she had been wrong about this cat. She was acting a lot friendlier than the other cats she had come in contact with. She relaxed slightly. "Nice to meet you, too. It's always nice to see someone besides this grumpy-whiskers over here."

Laughter sparkled in Ivyleaf's eyes as she turned back to Cinderfang. "Is she well enough to come?"

Cinderfang shot Yewpaw a glare, as though warning her to behave herself. "I think something like a Clan meeting would be too strenuous for her right now. She needs to-"

"If you say sleep, I'm going to hurt you." Yewpaw growled viciously. She was super curious to know what a StormClan Clan meeting would be like. After spending so long cooped up in the medicine den with Firenose and Cinderfang, she felt as though she were nearing the point where she would start bashing her head against the wall in frustration. Cinderfang wasn't talking to her and Firenose was… well, Firenose.

"You getting better faster and not injuring yourself is more important than satisfying your boredom." Cinderfang snapped.

"Yeah, I might wrench my other shoulder by sitting down the wrong way." Yewpaw meowed sarcastically. "Or I might get my eye poked out by a falling pigeon. I think I had an uncle go out that way…"

"Do what you want." Cinderfang said stiffly, padding briskly out of the cave without a backward glance.

Yewpaw needed no second invitation. Pretending that Cinderfang was not aggravated with her again, she tailed him and took a seat annoyingly close to him when he had settled down. Something about seeing his aggrieved expression when he looked at her made everything so much better.

After basking in the irritation of the gray tom, Yewpaw began to pay more attention to her surroundings. They were in some sort of hollow in the mountainside. To the west and north they were protected by huge mounds of boulders, some of which had found their way to the inside of the camp. A few scraggly-looking bushes seemed to serve as dens. StormClan cats had woven brambles, grass, and twigs into the shrubs in order to offer more protection from the elements. To Yewpaw, they looked like giant bird's nests with holes in the bottom.

The camp entrance was on the southern edge of camp, located where the going was the least treacherous to get out. The only thing separating StormClan's camp from the outside world was a dense line of bushes, also with brambles woven in. Two cats sat on either side of a thin grass tunnel, obviously serving as guards.

It was the cliff to the east that was the most impressive part of camp, however. The medicine den was nestled at the base of the giant natural structure. It was at least a half-tree's height, something Yewpaw had not noticed while staying so close to the den. StormClan's camp felt like a fortress to the golden she-cat. RavenClan's camp was well-hidden, but relatively exposed. It crossed her mind that attacking from any direction would be extremely dangerous, making it nearly impossible to take these cats by surprise.

As though reading her thoughts again, Cinderfang leaned in and growled. "You can tell your Clanmates what you see. We won't be defeated."

Yewpaw gave him a bemused look. "I'm not here to spy."

Cinderfang merely turned his attention to where Cloudstar was sitting as the white tom began to speak. Yewpaw's heart skipped a beat when the StormClan leader caught her eye and began to speak to his Clan. About her.

"Cats of StormClan, I understand that you are all wary of the stranger in our midst. When she was brought to us, I told you that it was the will of StarClan that we heal the cat who saved our medicine cat." Murmurs broke out among the StormClan cats, most uneasy and some downright hostile. A pawful remained silent, but none looked friendly. With all their eyes on her, Yewpaw wished she had stayed in the medicine den. Self-consciously, she crouched down.

"We will continue to do so until Firenose tells me that she is well enough to make it back to her own camp." The grizzled white tom spoke directly to Yewpaw now. "We thank you for risking your life to save the life of one of our own. StarClan has granted you great courage, and I know you will become a warrior to be reckoned with. I personally went to RavenClan and told Cinderstar what had become of you. Your Clanmates were proud, as they should be."

Stunned by Cloudstar's praise, Yewpaw dipped her head and stammered her thanks. "Th-thank you, Cloudstar. I can be at peace while I heal now that I know my Clanmates are aware of my situation."

The StormClan leader inclined his head slightly in acknowledgement of her thanks before continuing on with his announcements. "It's been three days since we last sighted HollyClan on the land we've reclaimed. I cannot yet say that it is safe, so please continue to only approach the area in groups of three or more."

The StormClan cats erupted in triumphant screeches and howls. Yewpaw was left looking mystified as the Clan around her broadcasted their joy. She knew that StormClan and HollyClan were at war, but she was stunned to hear that the forest cats had given up on part of their territory. HollyClan was not as big a threat to RavenClan as StormClan was, but they were a force to be reckoned with. In the past, spy reports of HollyClan's numbers were far from enticing. At the time, they had had twice the amount of cats that StormClan had. Granted, most were kits, and this was seasons ago, but surely the numbers could not be so different now. Yewpaw knew with cold certainty that Silentstar would not let them hold that land for long. She was not about to make mention of this to the ecstatic cats around her, though. Not like they would believe her anyway.

"And now, to celebrate our strength, I would like to appoint two new apprentices." Cloudstar called out in his gravelly voice. "Silverkit, Flykit, please come forward."

Two kits, groomed until their coats sparkled in the sunlight, padded regally from the back of camp, where the nursery was located. Yewpaw was startled by the lack of kittenish excitement the two expressed. They moved in a graceful, refined way, chins up and tails high, although kinked to the side in difference to their leader. Yewpaw couldn't help but notice that they looked an awful lot like Firenose, although the she-cat had silver markings instead of orange. The Clan parted to let them pass, murmuring soft praises and words of encouragement. Behind them sat a beautiful brown mottled queen, green eyes sparkling with pride. Beside her sat a younger kit, his eyes as round as moons as his denmates marched across camp under the proud gazes of their Clanmates.

"A little early… but they're ready I suppose." Yewpaw heard Cinderfang mutter to himself.

"Silverkit, you are ready to begin your training under the watchful eyes of StarClan." Cloudstar meowed ceremoniously. He did not descend from his perch on the smooth black rock, yet gazed upon the two young cats with such compassion and happiness that all the cats in the clearing could feel his noble presence. Yewpaw was used to seeing her leader command respect from her Clan, and even she had to admit that Cloudstar looked almost divine.

"Until you prove yourself worthy of your warrior name, you shall be known as Silverpaw. Bigwhisker, you have skill and wisdom aplenty to pass down to this apprentice. Teach her the noble ways of both StarClan and StormClan. Her future is at your paws." A massive dark brown tabby strode forward to touch noses with Silverpaw. His flanks and shoulders were scored with dozens of pale scars, and his tattered ears attested to his long life as a fighter. Silverpaw almost seemed to shrink back at first, but at the tom's soft coaxing she leaned forward to touch noses with him.

"Flykit, you, too, are ready to begin your training under the watchful eyes of StarClan." Cloudstar moved on to the tom. For a split second, the leader's eyes flicked past the kit and came to rest on Yewpaw, as though he were making sure she was watching.

Realization hit the apprentice like a thunderbolt. He had decided to make these kits apprentices for her benefit alone. StormClan's leader wanted her to see that StormClan had plenty of strong, young cats ready to fight for their Clan. Carefully, she raised her chin and looked back at him in a confident way. She did not want to challenge him, but she wanted him to know that she understood what he was trying to do and she was not afraid of him or his Clan.

Longfang, the deputy, was given the newly-apprenticed Flypaw. Yewpaw couldn't help but admire the white tom. He was tall, but not lanky, and powerfully-built without seeming too bulky and big. Fangs as long and sharp as a snake's jutted out from under his upper lip, for he was unable to conceal them even with his mouth closed. His fur fanned out past his cheeks and tapered into points, repeating the offense above his ears. His pelt was snowy white, save for his ears, which were pitch black. All the cats Yewpaw had seen in StormClan were beautiful or strikingly handsome in their own right, but he stuck out as a particularly fine specimen.

Catching Cinderfang observing her awestruck expression, Yewpaw felt a flash of self-consciousness. The amused quiver of his whiskers made her grow hot in her fur. Curbing her annoyance to maintain a somewhat innocent visage, she meowed, "It's a shame not all of you could look like Longfang. He's a rare find!"

"You wouldn't know beauty if it sat on you!" Cinderfang had opened his mouth to retort, but he was beaten to it by a small white apprentice sitting a few tail-lengths away. She was peering back at Yewpaw with undisguised hostility.

Yewpaw bristled and flattened her ears, aware that she could do little but bandy words with the apprentice. Her injuries prevented her from giving the insolent furball the beating she deserved.

The tom beside the white she-cat, who was quite clearly her brother, nudged her with a soft purr. "You know you don't disagree. Longfang is a handsome cat. Let her admire, StarClan knows you do the same thing."

The she-cat's eyes widened. Utterly speechless, she gave her brother a look of the utmost betrayal and scampered off in embarrassment. The young tom watched her go, green eyes sparkling with laughter.

"That wasn't nice, Graypaw." Cinderfang reprimanded sternly.

Yewpaw was confused as to why the other apprentice was called "Graypaw" as opposed to "Whitepaw", which would have been more fitting, until the cat turned to face Cinderfang and afforded her a better view of his facial features. Graypaw was pure white except for a small gray patch on his nose! Yewpaw had the feeling she knew what his warrior name was going to be.

"She won't be upset for long." Graypaw blinked at Cinderfang. "She knows I'm right." He didn't speak in a gloating or derogatory way about his sister, which Yewpaw would have expected. His tone was light and amused, but at the same time completely sincere.

"Well I hope I didn't cause any trouble." Yewpaw said, feeling a stab of guilt. She did not want to be the cause of family feuds among Clanmates.

"You didn't." The young tom assured her. "My name is Graypaw, by the way. Does your whole Clan look like you?" He tipped his head curiously as he took in her golden tabby pelt.

Yewpaw shook her head. "I'm the only one with golden fur."

"That must be interesting." Graypaw said earnestly. "Everyone here either has pointed markings or is a mix of whites and grays."

"If we looked like her, we'd scare all the prey away." A cream-colored she-cat sniffed, looking down her nose at the RavenClan apprentice.

"And if we smelled like her, too." A dark gray warrior tom wrinkled his nose.

Yewpaw stared firmly at her paws as several StormClan cats began to come by to leave their own barbed comments about her appearance and smell. The Clan meeting was over now, and every cat seemed interested in coming to get a better look at the strange RavenClan cat.

"That's enough everyone." To her surprise, it was Cinderfang who spoke up for her. "Yewpaw needs to go back to the medicine den and rest." The big gray tom shouldered his way through the crowd, leading Yewpaw swiftly back to the familiar darkness of the cave. The she-cat kept her head down as she followed the older cat, worried that meeting another cat's eyes would spark another disparaging comment.

"You'll have to forgive them." Cinderfang meowed as they made it to the safety of the medicine den. "They aren't fond of owing outsiders anything."

"They don't owe me anything." Yewpaw replied, puzzled.

"They owe you for saving their future medicine cat." Cinderfang snorted. "And they all know it, too."

"Weird way of showing it." Yewpaw said scornfully.

Cinderfang shrugged. "You have Cloudstar's blessing. That's all you really need. They won't harm you if they know your presence is welcomed by one of StarClan's chosen."

"You're one of StarClan's chosen, too." The golden she-cat pointed out, narrowing her eyes.

Cinderfang didn't respond. His eyes focused on the wall behind Yewpaw with a careful blankness.

At first Yewpaw was confused by this reaction, but it slowly dawned on her that Cinderfang was only an apprentice, an apprentice that had previously been a warrior. "Firenose hasn't received a sign for you yet." She breathed, eyes wide.

The gray tom would not meet her gaze. "I have only been training for two moons. Perhaps StarClan is waiting for me to prove myself."

"Maybe StarClan thinks you're better suited as a warrior." Yewpaw meowed gently. She remembered the ferocity of the badger they had faced together and how Cinderfang had dodged its mighty blows with relative ease, charging in at just the right moment to leave a bloody wound on his foe. Certainly that proved that he was of more use to his Clan as a warrior?

"Never!" Cinderfang hissed, eyes flashing dangerously. Yewpaw took a step back as he rounded on her. "StarClan's will or not, I won't go back to being a warrior. I will not be used as a mindless tool for war. I-I…. I can't." As suddenly as it appeared, the tom's anger dissipated. He abruptly looked many seasons older than he was, eyes haunted and shoulders hunched with grief.

Silence as thick as swamp mud spread between the two cats.

"I-I'm sorry Cinderfang." Yewpaw meowed quietly, not knowing what she could possibly say to him now. She wanted to apologize. She felt that what she had said was incredibly insensitive, yet she could not find the proper words to express this.

"You didn't know." The gray tom meowed gruffly, eyes like flint as he met her gaze. "I _will_ become StormClan's medicine cat. Never talk to me about being a warrior again."

Again he left Yewpaw alone, staring after him, as he stalked out of the medicine den. Beset by confusion, the golden she-cat curled up in her nest and closed her eyes. There was nothing for her to do besides rest. But sleep would not come for some time.

…

"Why Cinderfang wants to be a medicine cat?" Yellowtail blinked at Yewpaw, considering the question with a serious expression on his normally cheery face. It was early in the morning and the cream-colored tom had come in to offer the apprentice some breakfast. Since Cinderfang was out, and because Yellowtail was quite possibly the nicest cat in StormClan, Yewpaw had decided to ask him about the medicine cat's past.

"Why would you want to know about that?" The tom asked suspiciously.

"I keep saying things that seem to make him upset." Yewpaw said honestly, her shoulders rising and falling in a hopeless shrug. "I just thought maybe if I knew more about him I could avoid treading on his tail every time I open my mouth."

"Well, I can't refuse when you have a reason like that, now can I?" Yellowtail purred, his semi-wary look evaporating like mist under a summer sun. "Well now, let's see…" The older cat took a moment to organize his thoughts. "I suppose he might keep snapping at you because he's still hurt over the death of his mate, Shellfur. Of course, if you're prodding at him for his mistakes as a medicine cat, he might get aggravated by that, too. He's very sensitive about his herb-work. Only Firenose can criticize him there."

"He lost his mate?" Yewpaw's ears drooped slightly. "I didn't know that."

"Oh, yes." Yellowtail's golden eyes widened. "That's why he wanted to become a medicine cat. He said that he didn't want to be the kind of cat who could take away the loved ones of others, like the warrior who killed Shellfur."

"Who killed her?" Yewpaw asked hesitantly, not sure she wanted to know.

"Some HollyClan brute." Yellowtail's face darkened. "We never did find out who. Shellfur was a young and beautiful cat. A bit young to take a mate, but Cinderfang had always loved her dearly. Anyone in the Clan could have told you that those two would become mates, even when they were kits and apprentices." He sighed wistfully. "It was a terrible waste of a life. Cinderfang was always a headstrong young cat, brave and fearless. After that…. it's like looking at a different cat. Believe it or not, he wasn't always so quiet and grouchy."

A purr of amusement escaped Yewpaw, although her heart felt hollow for the young tom. Losing Turtlepaw had been a life-changing experience for her, so she could understand the change that the death of a loved one wrought in Cinderfang. Clan life was harsh. Loss was a fact of life if one wanted to live as a warrior. For some cats, it sharpened their wits and gave purpose to every wound they left on an enemy. But for others it shattered the soul and left a hole in one's heart that could never be repaired. Sunfur had been one such cat. Cinderfang was lost somewhere between those two extremes.

"I had no…." Yewpaw trailed off at the sound of approaching pawsteps.

Cinderfang himself appeared at the cave entrance, pausing to gaze questioningly at Yellowtail. "Do you need something?"

"I was just bringing Yewpaw a bite to eat. We got to chatting a little bit." Yellowtail mewed calmly.

"About what?" Cinderfang's eyes narrowed.

"Mind your business, Cinderfang." Yellowtail's words were firm, but polite. He met the gray cat's gaze unblinkingly. "You may be medicine cat apprentice, but that doesn't mean you get to pry into business that isn't yours."

Cinderfang gave an exasperated snort, but inclined his head slightly toward the older tom. "I'm sorry, Yellowtail."

"I'll bring you another snack before the day is out." Yellowtail said to Yewpaw, giving her a quick wink before trotting out of the medicine den with his tail held high.

The RavenClan apprentice found herself wishing that the cream-colored tom would stay. As soon as his orange tail-tip vanished from sight, the feeling of awkwardness began to spread between herself and Cinderfang once more.

Yewpaw fixed her gaze on the wall across from her nest and listened to Cinderfang as he padded to the back to look for his mentor. When he did not find her, he returned to the front of the den and asked, "Where did Firenose go?"

"She wanted to go sun herself. I don't know where she's gone though." Yewpaw replied. As he turned away to leave the den once more, she meowed carefully. "Cinderfang?"

He stopped.

"I… I'm sorry."

"For what?" From his tone, she gathered that he would rather not discuss the previous night.

"For what I said." Yewpaw's voice was small. Then she added, "I think you'll make a great medicine cat."

Cinderfang sighed, turning to face the apprentice. "It's not your fault, Yewpaw. I should be the one apologizing." A faraway look came over him and he said softly, "I've been ignoring what my Clan has been saying about me for so long… avoiding everyone's eyes and shutting my ears to their doubts about me… I know that my status as medicine cat apprentice is not secure until Firenose receives a sign from our ancestors."

Seeing how dejected the ex-warrior was, Yewpaw took pity and meowed, "It's still my fault. You don't need some insensitive RavenClan upstart throwing things in your face. Accidentally or not." He gave her a semi-amused look, but said nothing. She continued, more tentatively now. "I don't know how things are here… but in RavenClan we have a saying. "StarClan chooses when you're born and know when you'll die, but they can't make you use your claws." I don't know if that's blasphemous to you…"

"I wouldn't repeat it to anyone else." Cinderfang said curtly. Then his tone softened. "But I understand."

…

The next quarter moon Yewpaw spent by Cinderfang's side. With nothing else to keep her occupied, she helped him with his tasks around camp. After the first day or two sticking around the medicine cats she became somewhat of a second memory to the tom, reminding him quietly of things he had forgotten or things he was doing wrong. Herbs came surprisingly easy to the she-cat, much to Cinderfang's chagrin. Yewpaw told him it was just because RavenClan cats were smarter, but the truth was all RavenClan apprentices were taught a few basic herbs and their uses.

In the past, when RavenClan was young, it was common practice for many cats to take on the role as healer, with the medicine cat being the main tutor and the only cat besides the leader to receive signs from StarClan. At the time it was necessary to have as many healers as possible to deal with the seemingly endless sea of cats wounded in wars with both StormClan and HollyClan. Even now it was not unheard of for a cat to pursue medicine and not be chosen by StarClan, although they were typically seen only as normal warriors with an extra skill. RavenClan cats never revealed this bit of history to other Clans, preferring to keep it as a secret weapon.

Yewpaw was by no means an expert on herbs. All she knew was that mud was good to stop bleeding, horsetail stopped infections, and poppy seeds were for cases of extreme pain, and yet she was utterly floored by the amount of petty concerns the cats of StormClan would come to Cinderfang for. Nearly three times a day the poor tom was sent to the nursery to thoroughly examine the newborn kits, even though they looked perfectly healthy to Yewpaw. The elders especially where a bunch of whiners. All they did was complain about aches and pains no matter how much ointment Cinderfang slathered onto their joints. The only cats who didn't march into the medicine den once a day were the apprentices and young warriors.

"We have fewer kits born to us than HollyClan and RavenClan do." Cinderfang explained to her one evening after she pointed out how silly some concerns were. "They're not concerned for themselves. They simply want to keep themselves at peak physical condition to fend for their Clanmates. It's something we try not to get irritated about, no matter how busy it keeps us."

Yewpaw came to know most of the faces around camp the longer she hung around Cinderfang. Yellowtail and Graypaw were the two friendliest felines, but she was able to hold conversations with Ivyleaf, who turned out to be only a moon older than Yewpaw, and Whitepaw. Over time she also learned who to avoid. StormClan's deputy had no fondness for the RavenClan apprentice, and he made no effort to hide it whenever she was near. Bigwhisker, Owlear, and Quailear were also not pleased with her presence in camp, but they weren't big on talking or making a scene, so at most they would shoulder her roughly as she passed or snarl if she got too close. They would also intervene if Yewpaw tried to play with the kits or if they caught her speaking to other apprentices.

Each passing day saw Yewpaw a little stronger and more sure-footed as her shoulder slowly mended. She was so absorbed with her day to day tasks of helping Cinderfang that at first she didn't notice. Instead of being anxiety-filled and constantly thinking of home, the apprentice busied herself with ribbing Cinderfang whenever she could in a companionable way. It was the sort of thing that Otterpaw and Blackpaw would do for her when she became melancholy thinking about her sister and mother. The gray tom always reacted with a long-suffering look and a witty comeback, but Yewpaw noticed how he seemed less grouchy and introverted than before. In fact, she got away with saying a lot of cheeky things that she would never have said to a warrior at home.

"Are you going to need any more dock leaves today?" Yewpaw asked as she nudged a stack of the large, flat leaves back into their rightful place among the other herbs.

"I don't think so. We've looked at all the elders today." Cinderfang replied, looking up from the poppy seeds he was counting. "But you can bring down those blackberry leaves. I think most of those are too dry to use now."

"Why do you keep so many if you hardly use them?" Yewpaw asked as she stretched her paw out to collect the sad-looking pile of plant matter.

"In Greenleaf we have a lot of trouble with bee stings. They like to make nests in the cracks in rocks around camp. Some inquisitive kits invariably pick up a sting or two each season cycle."

The stiffness of the tom's response was not lost on Yewpaw. She paused and cast a sly glance in his direction. "Certain kits like a gray little tomkit, too curious for his own good?"

"Did Firenose tell you?" Cinderfang demanded, mortified.

"No." Yewpaw couldn't suppress her laughter. "Ivyleaf did." Cinderfang tried to maintain an aloof and irritated exterior as Yewpaw continued to purr uproariously at his expense, but he soon found himself giving a chuckle as well.

"Cinderfang?" The two cats' merriment subsided as Ivyleaf stuck her head into the den. Her expression was unreadable, although Yewpaw thought she could see a tiny flicker of jealousy in the pretty she-cat's green eyes as her gaze swept over her. "There are some RavenClan cats just outside of camp. They demand that we return Yewpaw."

"Who is it?" The golden she-cat blurted out excitedly, her tail sticking straight up at the thought of seeing her Clanmates again.

"Hawkheart, a black and white tom I don't recognize, and I think her name was Tinybird?" Ivyleaf recited, her forehead creasing slightly as she tried to remember.

"Webpelt!" Yewpaw said gleefully, brushing past Ivyleaf in her haste to see her father. She gasped as the sudden movement sent a jolt of pain through her injured shoulder. Slowing her pace slightly, she made her way eagerly to the camp entrance, where she could see a small knot of StormClan warriors gathering warily.

"Yewpaw, wait a second." Cinderfang hurried to stand in front of her, preventing her from moving forward.

She faced him with puzzlement, wondering why she was being held back. "What is it Cinderfang?"

"Are you sure you feel ready to go back?" Worry clouded the tom's green gaze.

"Well yeah, I…" Yewpaw trailed off. She was going to tell him that she had felt well enough to make the journey for the past few days, although she would have to move slowly. She had refrained from doing so earlier, since she automatically assumed that the medicine cats would declare her ready when she was healed. Seeing the look on his face, she began to understand why he had not sent her back yet.

It felt as though her heart was caught in her throat. He would miss having her around. Thinking about it, Yewpaw realized she would miss him as well. She had grown fond of teasing the tom, and had even grown to relish his snappish responses. But… when she looked past the medicine cat apprentice and surveyed the impatient, suspicious faced beyond him, she knew that she could not stay any longer. It wasn't just her they were eyeing distrustfully; they were also looking at Cinderfang. Their friendly relationship had not gone unnoticed, and given more time the Clan's mistrust of the tom would only increase.

_You've got to be careful now. Your loyalty is going to be tested, but if you pass these tests you'll become someone great._

Turtlepaw's words echoed through Yewpaw's head. With a heavy heart, she recognized the significance of those words. Looking into Cinderfang's eyes, she felt a dull, bittersweet pain. Her friends, whom she had thought about so constantly at the beginning of her time here, now seemed so insignificant in comparison with the time she had spent with Cinderfang. And yet… with both her heart and mind she understood that she could not remain here forever.

"It's time for me to go home." She said, lifting her head high. It wasn't hard for her to push her melancholy feelings aside to make way for the anticipation of returning to her own Clan.

Cinderfang bowed his head, masking his expression behind an impassive mask as he stepped aside.

"Try not to be too sad." Yewpaw said, puffing out her chest importantly. "I'll be there to pester you at gatherings. Especially once I'm leader of the Clan."

"Oh, StarClan forbid." Cinderfang grumbled.

Yewpaw gave a _mrrow_ of laughter and turned away, no hesitation present in her footsteps as she left him there.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: Terribly sorry for the lateness on this one. Holidays and whatnot. I hope the length makes up for it. <strong>  
><strong>I have decided to give up on my once every five days posting habits. This story was dominating most of my life for the months of November and December. From now on I will be posting between two and three times a month at unspecified times. But, it's not all bad news. Because I'll be taking longer to write them, the chapters will also be longer. A normal chapter of mine went from four to five pages to later being between eight and nine, so you can understand why suddenly it was taking so much of my time to keep up the deadlines I set. So I hope you'll forgive me on that... <strong>

**~Leaf**


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